Music To My Ears
by Daimeryan Rei
Summary: Duo Maxwell, a young talented piano teacher, becomes suspect when two of his students are murdered. Detective Chang and Barton are on the case.
1. Default Chapter

****

Music To My Ears by Daimeryan Rei

Pairing : main Heero & Duo

Warning : Alternate Universe. They are supposed to be at least five years older. Un-betaed fic. C & C greatly appreciated and welcomed.

Summary : Duo Maxwell, a well-respected piano teacher, becomes a suspect when two of his students are found murdered. Detective Chang and Barton are on the case.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to its respective owners. No money is made of this work of fiction.

* * *

"No, no, no.. stop butchering Chopin like that!"

With a gentle gesture, Duo Maxwell lifted the hands of his student Dorothy Catalonia from the piano keys to stop the horrid sound.

"What did I tell you.."

"I know, I know…" She sighed. "I should have studied more. I think _the Minute Waltz _is a little bit too difficult for me."

"Not if you study well, it's not," Duo said and placed her hands on the keys again. "Start over. From the beginning.."

"It's no use," Dorothy snapped and her fingers slipped off the keys. "I'm only doing this because my grandfather wants it. He thinks it's good for my education, the old goat!"

"Music is beautiful, Dorothy. It's balm for the soul, soothing for the mind, relaxing for the body. You have come so far, it would be a waste of time and effort to quit! And your grandfather is right – music is good for your education. It's a world of experience!"

Dorothy smiled. "Your enthusiasm is contagious, mr. Maxwell. I am very lucky to have such a good teacher like you. If only I had also your talent and your long fingers… mine are so stubby.."

She looked at Duo and smiled again. He winked at her.

"Nice try miss Catalonia, but you are not going to sweet-talk your way out of this. Start over. From the beginning.. and one.. and two.."

Before the girl could start, a loud cough startled them both. Duo turned around on the stool and his face lit up.

"Heero! You're home early!"

"Yes," he only answered. Duo laughed shortly.

"Five more minutes Heero," he said and turned his attention back to Dorothy.

"I don't mind if class is dismissed early today," she said jokingly, but Duo started counting and she had no other choice than to start over again.

Duo walked into the kitchen and spotted Heero at the sink, rinsing his coffee mug. He wrapped his arms around his lover's body and nuzzled his neck.

"That's a better greeting," Heero grumbled and turned around.

"You know what we agreed," Duo said and kissed him feather-lightly. "No kiss-kiss in front of the students. No interruptions of class, as I seem to have to remind you on that one multiple times."

"I don't like that Catalonia girl." Heero Yuy embraced his boyfriend and his hands took possession of the long, thick braid and started caressing it. "Don't like her at all."

"She's okay. It's too bad she doesn't study very much because she is very talented on the piano. Duke Dermail, her grandfather, is the only reason why she is even taking classes. It seems he is really pushing her- and he is paying for it, of course."

"She ogles you. She slobbers on you."

"Stop it, Heero. It's not really a secret I'm hopelessly in love with you. No girl can ever change that."

Heero didn't answer but continued caressing the braid, hands climbing higher until he reached Duo's ears. He stroked the wisps of hair and cupped Duo's face.

"Nothing can ever change that." Duo looked in the cobalt blue eyes of his partner. "Nothing."

"I love you so much," Heero kissed him. "So much I can't imagine living without you."

Duo narrowed his eyes to slits. "Heero? Is everything all right? You seem a little bit upset."

"Play for me tonight," he answered him. 

"What do you want to hear?"

"Chopin will do. Chopin will do just fine."

Duo was not surprised to see the other side of the bed empty and Heero gone the following morning. Heero was an early riser, too early for any normal human – but Duo had already given up hope of seeing Heero as 'any normal human'. They were lovers, partners and friends for more than five years and still Duo was convinced he didn't know everything about Heero. He was a bit reclusive, withdrawn and had walls around him the size of skyscrapers. Even though Duo had managed to break some of those walls down, there were still… 'matters'. The matter of Heero being able to bend steel. The matter of Heero's uncanny stamina and health. The matter of his soldier-like responses and life-style he maintained. He had never got around to tell Duo what was the reason behind it. He referred only to it as "training in his youth". They fought about it. They argued about it. Duo had eventually learned not to prod or to bully, as Heero would always react badly. In time, Duo had given it a rest and concentrated more on understanding his life-partner and trying to get him more out of his shell. So far, he had managed that Heero was quite social around him.. but only around him. And sometimes a bit too social.. more protective. Ever since Duo had told him in all honesty about his own past, Heero has taken on his 'protection' as if it was a mission.

Duo started to make the bed, thoughts wandering about the upcoming lessons and classes. He took a shower and dressed himself – black slacks, black vest, white shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned. A handsome young man in his twenties grinned back at him.

"You have come far too, Duo Maxwell," he said aloud. _Far from an orphan on the streets and out of a church to a well-fed, loved and socially accepted piano teacher. _He winked at himself, laughed and was shaken out of his reverie by the doorbell. 

It took him a minute to peek through the looking glass. The apartment was a little too big for only two persons, but Duo wouldn't want to miss it for the world. He took a second look. Two men were standing in front of his door with grim expressions on their faces.

He opened the door. 

"Can I help you?"

"Duo Maxwell?" The Chinese man asked, or rather, barked at him.

"Yes, that's me." He felt a little bit strange. This was not good. Something happened.. to Heero?

"I am sorry, mr. Maxwell, but we have to talk to you. I'm detective Chang Wufei and this is my colleague, detective Trowa Barton. May we come in?"

"Of course, of course," Duo answered nervously, swinging the door wide open. They both presented him their badges but Duo hardly gave it a look.

"What happened? Something to Heero? Did something happen to Heero?"

Detective Chang shook his head. "No, sir, we are here for one of your students. Miss Dorothy Catalonia."

"Dorothy? Wha.." Duo felt nauseous. Two detectives.. standing in his living room..

"She has been murdered, mr. Maxwell."

"Where were you yesterday evening, around 03.00 at night?"


	2. 2

****

Music To My Ears by Daimeryan Rei

Pairing : Heero & Duo

Warning : Alternate Universe. They are supposed to be at least five years older. Un-betaed fic. C & C greatly appreciated and welcomed.

Summary : Duo Maxwell, a well-respected piano teacher, becomes a suspect when two of his students are found murdered. Detective Chang and Barton are on the case.

Author's Note: thank you for your reviews! 

* * *

Chang Wufei was a man of few words. His rigid posture screamed authority – and the attitude of someone used of getting answers, one way or another. Trowa Barton looked friendlier, albeit a bit subdued. Half his face was covered with bangs of auburn hair and his visible green eye was darting around the room, as if nothing could escape its attention.

Duo paled. "Yesterday.. Dorothy.. what?"

"We are sorry to overwhelm you with this news, mr. Maxwell. As she was a student of yours, we need to investigate every trail and lead if possible."

"Yes, of course." Duo was confused. Dorothy? The same Dorothy who was complaining about the lesson, only yesterday? Blond-haired, spiky-eyebrowed Dorothy Catalonia?

"Impossible," he said aloud. "This can't be.."

"You mentioned someone named.. Heero?" Trowa's voice was calm and composed, but had more warmth to it than Wufei's clipped, curt tone.

"Heero is my life partner," Duo confirmed. "I just assumed something happened to him when you said you wanted to talk to me. I'm sorry, I totally forget my manners! Can I get you some coffee?"

"No thank you, mr. Maxwell. We won't be long. We have to ask you some routine questions."

Duo lost himself completely in thoughts. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't believe it. Dorothy.. murdered? What kind of an idiot would do that? 

"I still can't escape death," he mumbled.

"What?"

He blushed furiously. "Please, take a seat, please." He motioned them to the couch and they simultaneously sat down.

"These are just formal routine questions. Where were you at 03.00 at night, yesterday?"

"Sleeping," Duo answered. "I.. I always go to bed around 22.30 a.m."

"Is there someone who can vouch for your being here?"

"Hee… Heero." Duo felt nauseous and horrible. Dorothy was his student and now she was dead. He couldn't escape death. They were intertwined… without an option to break free.

"Where is this Heero or where can we find him?" Chang Wufei looked stern at Duo, examining him from top to bottom. He had gained a lot of experience in judging people and their behavior after years and years of working in the homicide division. The piano teacher looked frail and helpless, but he had a strength that was struggling to surface. A strength some people would not see in him, and because of his emotional, shocked response to the death of the Catalonia girl, they would rather keep this Duo Maxwell for a sniveling wimp- only to be proven false when in the end, his strength would survive them all.

"Heero.." The doorbell interrupted him. Trowa rose to answer the door, but Duo jumped up.

"No, wait! It's only Hilde.. she is my next student. Just a moment.. I will tell her to come back later, if you want to."

"No, let her in," Wufei motioned. "We were almost finished anyway, mr. Maxwell, if you give us the answer if someone can vouch for your alibi and where we can find Heero."

"I don't know where he is. Heero has his own daily routine and.. excuse me, I must answer the door."

Duo left the living room and quickly opened the door. Hilde Schbeiker hugged him, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Good morning, Duo! I am ready for class! The nocturne I was studying was.." She trailed off by the lack of the usual, exuberant response.

"Duo? What's the matter?"

"Hilde, I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm good for any classes today.."

"What happened?" Hilde saw the two men in the living room and barked. "Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want from Duo?"

"Hilde!" Duo cried out indignantly. She looked furious at him, but softened immediately. 

"Duo.. what happened?"

"Detective Chang and detective Barton told me that Dorothy has been killed. She has been murdered and they wanted to know my alibi."

"Absurd… " Hilde's eyes grew as big as saucers. "Dear Lord, Dorothy.."

"Did you know her, miss..?" Trowa asked.

"Schbeiker, Hilde Schbeiker. Yes, of course I knew Dorothy. I know all of Duo's students and they all know me. It's one of his great talents to mix the students to give them all an opportunity to play together and learn from each other's techniques. I played quatre-mains with her a few times."

"Did you notice anything unusual about her, the last few days? Did she mention something out of her usual routine?" 

"It's just a piano class, not a freakin' psychology lesson," Duo answered. Hilde clasped his shoulder. 

"We don't talk much personal issues during class. I can't say very much about Dorothy because I only met her three or four times. I only know she has a grandfather and he was paying for the lessons. She was complaining about how he wanted her to play at least one musical instrument, because he esteemed it high for her education. She was way out of my league."

"Thank you, miss Schbeiker." Trowa closed a little notepad he was scribbling in. 

"I think that will be enough for now," Wufei said and inclined his head slightly towards Duo and Hilde. "Thank you for the information."

Duo showed the two detectives out and hesitated by the door. 

"If there is anything I can do, please let me know," he ventured. 

Wufei nodded. "Thank you, mr. Maxwell."

They walked through the long corridor to the elevators. Wufei was used to Trowa trailing a few steps behind him – not because the other thought he was superior. This was the third year he worked with Trowa Barton and he couldn't have wished for a better colleague. The green-eyed man had frighteningly accurate eyesight, despite all that hair in front of his right eye, and there was so little that escaped his attention. If there was something Wufei would miss, than Trowa certainly would pick it up. He only used that little notepad of his to write down some names or observations, observations as sharp as razor blades and invaluable for whatever case they were working on.

He punched the button to call the elevator.

"Well?"

Trowa shrugged. "The piano teacher is clean. He seemed genuinely shocked by the news. Lack of motive. I wouldn't know what he would gain by murdering one of his students, and certainly one where Duke Dermail is paying for."

"Yeah. It's Dermail who is also pulling strings and using all his influence to investigate his granddaughter's death- and that's why we have to sort through all these leads, no matter how insignificant they may appear."

The "ping"-sound announced the arrival of the elevator.

Trowa looked behind him, to the light yellow painted door of the apartment they just left.

"However, that Heero fellow sounded intriguing to me… when even his life partner doesn't know where he hangs out, that's certainly arousing questions."

"Exactly." Wufei took a step forward. Before entering the lift cage, he turned his head to his colleague.

"Put a note on this Heero, Barton. If other leads don't work out, we can always follow this one."


	3. 3

Hilde clamped her hands around the steaming mug of coffee. Duo took the opposite seat on the kitchen table and picked up his own mug.

"What a terrible thing to happen on the early morning," she said and took a sip. Duo flicked his long braid over his shoulder and leaned forward to pick up his mug. 

"What a terrible thing for Dermail," he responded. Hilde took another sip.

"No one deserves to be murdered. Poor girl. Did they tell you what happened to her exactly?"

"No, and I don't want to know either." Duo shivered. 

"Take it easy. You don't have anything to do with it. She was your student, but nothing more."

He turned the mug around in his hands. "Heero is right. I shouldn't bond with my students."

"It's pretty normal to be upset, Duo. You just heard the news of the death of one of your students, for cryin' out loud!" She took another sip. "Besides... bonding with people is one of your other talents. You automatically and naturally attach yourself to everyone you meet. It's called compassion, and you've got lots of it. And how would Heero know anything about bonding? He only cares for himself. Where is he anyway? He should be with you!"

Before Duo could answer, the door opened and two male voices were heard.

"Who's with Heero?" Duo rose from his chair and quickly made his way to the door, followed by Hilde. 

Heero stood in the doorway with a brown grocery bag in his left arm, his right hand hovering behind his back, reaching for a gun that wasn't there- an instinct burned into his body, mind and soul. No matter how many times Duo would tell him not to not judge every situation in the mind of a soldier, after years and years of indoctrination and severe training the imposed pattern of behavior was hard to shake. Next to him stood a blond, young boy with blue eyes as big as saucers, cheeks flushed. He looked impeccable- his clothing radiated expensive taste, shoes polished and his hair nicely groomed. 

"He was at the front door," Heero explained in a clipped tone. 

"I was just about to knock," the boy answered politely. "I am looking for Mr. Maxwell."

"You found him," Duo stated and offered his hand. "You are..?"

"Quatre Raberba Winner. I know I'm early for class, but I'd rather be early than too late.."

"Ah, Winner! I remember it was your father who called me?"

"Yes," Quatre confirmed. "I hope he didn't gave you too much trouble. My father can be very insistent when he wants to."

"No, not at all." Duo looked up at the right time to catch Heero's frowning face. His scowl deepened after hearing the word "trouble".

"Take a seat in the living room, Mr. Winner. I'll finish class first.."

"Sure, sure, I'm way too early. Please, call me Quatre."

"Al right, Quatre," Duo smiled. "After I'm finished, I'll have you play something to judge your skill and level, okay? Heero, show Quatre a place to sit."

Heero looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and handed the grocery bag over to Duo. Hilde stared after him.

"Really, Duo, I can't help but wondering why you put up with him. I know that he has improved a lot, but sometimes.. sheesh! It wouldn't surprise me if he'd killed him on the spot."

She slapped her hand on her mouth. "O God, Duo, I'm sorry! I didn't want to.."

"Never mind, Hilde." Duo shook his head, braid swishing with every motion. "We've talked about this before and I don't want to repeat it once more. I love Heero."

"I'm not saying that you don't." She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "And neither am I saying that he doesn't love you. If you could bottle the love he is feeling for you and sell it, you would be a billionaire. But sometimes.. sometimes he irks me."

"I won't be charging this class," Duo said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze back.

"It's okay." She had never even taken off her coat and she left through the open door. Duo closed it behind her and threw a look sideways. 

Quatre Winner sat on the couch, leaning on the comfortable cushions, anxiously looking around the living room. His eyes averted automatically to the grand Bösendorfer placed before the windowpanes with the same height as the wall, flanked by creamy yellow curtains, offering a wide view over the city you could only get by living at the 9th floor. On the hood stood Duo's favorite picture and he smiled as he saw his new student looking at it; the simple black and white picture portraying them both as the fifteen year olds they were back then- their first picture ever taken. Duo remembered the warm, sunny day when they visited the beach to relax and enjoy each other's company. They coaxed a bystander into taking a picture of them, but after developing it turned out the man had taken a headshot of them facing the sun. The picture was far too bright, but their faces were nevertheless clearly visible, heads surrounded by an aura of orange sunlight. Heero stood one pace before Duo; leaving him to lean on his shoulder, a position Duo would get fairly quick acquainted to.  No matter how much Duo loved him and he certainly did not doubt Heero's love for him, there would always be that one pace between them- that one little step of distance that just couldn't be closed.

The grocery bag rustled. Duo took it to the kitchen where he found Heero busy searching the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?"

"Do we have tea?"

"Tea?"

"Yes, your student wants some."

"Great! That was nice of you, Heero, to ask him if he wanted something to drink."

Heero smirked. "I do pay attention what you are saying to me."

Duo gave him a peck on the cheek.

"No kiss-kiss in front of the students," Heero mocked but his eyes glittered. Duo gave him another peck.

"He can't see us through the wall unless he has x-ray view," Duo snickered and put the grocery bag on the kitchen table. Before he could look through it, Heero asked for the tea again.

"I believe it's in that one," Duo motioned to the upper right cabinet. 

"Why did Hilde leave so early? She had her coat still on." 

"There were two detectives here, you just missed them." Duo took some cans out of the grocery bag and sighed inwardly with relief when he felt Heero's arms slid around him.

"Two detectives? Why? What did they want from you?"

He leaned backwards. This was so comfortable, so.. reassuring. It was so easy to crawl into his arms and let him take care of everything.

"They told me that Dorothy Catalonia was murdered.. she is dead.." It tasted strange on his tongue, to speak out loud about her death. Heero tightened his grip.

"What? How.. how is it possible?" It took only half a minute before his voice changed from amazement to indignant.

"Why did they come to you? Did they suspect you from anything? What were their names?"

"Detective Chang and Barton. Heero, stay here!" Duo spun around to catch Heero by the arm.

"There is nothing you can do. They were only doing their job."

"If they implied that you are responsible for.."

Duo shook his head. "No, Heero. They only wanted to know where I was at the time of her death and they asked if someone could vouch for my alibi."

Heero cupped Duo's face with his hands. "I wish I could protect you from all the bad things in the world, my Duo. I can see you are upset. Do you want me to tell your student to cancel this appointment so you can rest?"

"No," Duo put his hands over Heero's. "I can handle it. I.."

"You don't need more grief. I told you that giving lessons at home was getting too personal. Duo, love.. I want you to be safe and shielded. I don't want anything happen to you."

"That's why I quit teaching at a school Heero, or don't you remember?" A hint of irritation flashed over Duo's face. "I started giving lessons at home because I am safe here. What else am I supposed to do, lock myself in a atomic shelter?"

"Only if you lock me in with you too," Heero said simply and kissed Duo on his brow. He was taken aback when Duo slid off his hands and took a step away from him.

"I told the detectives I was asleep at three at night," he said. "Can you vouch for my alibi, Heero?"


	4. Chapter 4

There was only the tiniest hint of irritation showing in Heero's eyes.  
  
"Of course I can, Duo." He turned around to face the kitchen sink, hands trailing the rim of the steaming cup of tea. "It was a peaceful night. A night without bad dreams. I watched you sleep, as I always watch you, Duo. You didn't have any nightmares, otherwise you... and I. would have remembered."  
  
Duo's face was contorted by a pained grimace. Heero put aside the teabag, spun around to face Duo, and shook his head.  
  
"I am so sorry, love. I didn't want to mention them."  
  
"It's okay, it's okay." Duo murmured. I. never mind, Heero. I didn't mean to... I don't want you to think that I don't trust you."  
  
He remained silent. Duo hastily sought out Heero and grabbed him at the hands.  
  
"I... I'm so sorry."  
  
"I understand," Heero said softly. "This must be exhausting for you. Why don't you call off your student and get some rest, like I suggested?"  
  
"No," Duo answered, and he reached past Heero for the cup of tea. "I can't keep running away from every little thing."  
  
"I don't call the death of one of your students 'a little thing'," Heero mentioned. Duo shot him an angry look.  
  
"You know what I mean. You cannot keep protecting me forever. I must learn to stand on my own two feet."  
  
"This is not the time. Your student is waiting." Heero couldn't help sounding irritated. He was not used to an angry look coming from Duo.  
  
"God, Heero, why must this always be so difficult?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
Duo shook his head. "We'll talk about this tonight."  
  
Heero reluctantly agreed. He walked with Duo to the corridor and halted to put on his jacket.  
  
"Are you going to them again?"  
  
Duo didn't wait for Heero's answer. "You know I don't like your friends from the military. It's not good to dwell on the war for so long, and that Khushrenada and Marquise guy are a bunch of anarchistic hooligans."  
  
Heero zipped up his jacket. "They are my friends. I know how you feel about them, but they are my friends and I want to look them up."  
  
He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. "It was my war, Duo."  
  
The door swung shut. Duo stared at it for a few moments, then he whispered: "The war ended five years ago, Heero. I know. I was there, remember?"  
  
The tea was rapidly cooling as Duo walked to his waiting student, plastering a smile on his face before he entered the living room.  
  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Quatre. Here's your tea."  
  
"Thank you." Quatre took the cup and pointed at the piano. "That's a beautiful one."  
  
"It's from the Conservatory series," Duo took a seat and adjusted a cushion on the couch. "I worked my ass off to pay for the thing-- oops, do you mind me saying 'ass'?"  
  
Quatre laughed. "Not at all, not at all."  
  
"You can play something after you finished your tea, so I can judge your level. Have you played before?"  
  
"Only the violin. I had lessons for more than six years."  
  
"Why piano, then?"  
  
He shrugged. "My father suggested to me to try another instrument, for a change. I don't mind- I have time to spare."  
  
Duo frowned. "How come?"  
  
"My father doesn't want to let go of his businesses," Quatre answered. "I'm almost a triple MBA and still he doesn't trust me to assist him. He still thinks I'm not up to take charge over his assets."  
  
Duo nodded and it struck him that he was, again, bonding with his student. I'm just chatting with him. I just can't stop it. It goes naturally. I wouldn't be a good teacher if I didn't take any interest in my students, now would I? This is how I am. This is who I am.  
  
"Mister Maxwe. Duo, are you all right?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, yes, yes, sorry about that. Can you play something for me?"  
  
Quatre put down his teacup and positioned himself behind the piano. "I've only had four or five lessons before."  
  
He started playing and Duo listened intensely. It was just a nursery rhyme, and Quatre kept repeating it until Duo told him to quit.  
  
"Okay, thank you, Quatre. I know where we can start. Just a second..." Duo sifted through the pile of books he used for his lessons and came up with one appropriate for Quatre's level. He sat next to his student, opened the book and started with the finger exercises. While playing the same exercise over and over again, Quatre said, in a whispering tone: "I really like the picture."  
  
It took Duo a few second to understand that Quatre was mentioning the picture on the piano, of him and Heero on the beach.  
  
After the last class, Duo felt drained. He wanted to make dinner, even though he wasn't sure when Heero would be coming home. Duo shuddered. He once had gone with Heero to the 'bar' he always visited-- a rundown café where discarded, bitter and drunk former soldiers assembled to drown their misery. Heero knew lots of comrades from the war, and few of them had managed to adapt to a reasonably 'normal' life. They spent their days wallowing in forgotten glory and lost memories of a time that had gone and was written down in history books.  
  
Duo had his own memories of the war, memories he had shared with Heero. It had helped him a great deal to talk about it; to talk about the death and destruction he had seen. Duo didn't feel disappointed anymore that Heero obviously didn't want to share his memories. It sometimes looked like it was the war that kept that invisible distance between them. Duo remembered meeting Heero, only two months after peace was declared by the United Earth Sphere Alliance. Heero was hospitalized after an accident with a mobile suit and that was all Duo knew about his war past. Heero had never wanted to talk about it; somehow he felt more at ease with his former comrades than with Duo, concerning the war.  
  
Out of routine, Duo peeled potatoes, cut vegetables and fried meat. Heero never returned drunk from his visits, but it always renewed his ...hostility against the world and the protectiveness he felt around him, Duo, in an almost obsessive manner. Recently Heero came home so upset that he had summoned Duo to stay at home for almost three days, without an opportunity to leave the house. It was the first in a row of fights in which Duo tried to make clear that Heero shouldn't continue visiting his friends. He was totally honest that he didn't like Treize Khushrenada and Zechs Marquise and stated once again that they had a bad influence. Heero had always denied and insisted on keeping in touch with his old friends.  
  
Duo sighed. It was of no use telling Heero to get a job; he had a war pension that enabled him to do with his time whatever he wanted. Duo often had wondered about the amount of money Heero received from the government; he knew from other people that war pensions weren't normally that high.  
  
Just one of the secrets Heero had. Just one of the things he didn't want to talk about.  
  
"And as long as you don't want to talk about it, I have to guess what's bothering you and what's going on in your mind, asshole," Duo voiced out loud and almost cut himself with the knife. He put away the utensil and took a step away from the sink.  
  
"I love you so damn much," he said, "but you make it so difficult for me."  
  
He stood there, thoughts tumbling around in his mind until the doorbell rang. Duo quickly wiped off his hands and went to answer the door. He wasn't really surprised to see his good friend, with a bottle of wine in her hands.  
  
"Hilde?"  
  
"Hey, I wanted to make sure you were all right," she ventured and hugged him. Duo hugged her back.  
  
"Thank you, Hilde. Come in, I was just making dinner."  
  
She sniffed in the air and laughed. "Nice! Can I have a bite?"  
  
"Sure! What kind of wine did you bring?"  
  
During dinner, they avoided the subject of Dorothy Catalonia's death and talked about the weather, music, pianos, and the upcoming recital where Hilde would play her nocturne. Duo helped himself to another portion of vegetables. Hilde cleared her dish with the last piece of potato.  
  
"Aw man, I'm gaining pounds just by sitting here, Duo!"  
  
"You stuffed yourself like a pig," he answered, mirth glittering in his eyes. "Would you like some dessert?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, really, I have enough."  
  
"Maybe later."  
  
"I think it's..." The loud clicking of the door interrupted Hilde.  
  
"That's Heero!" Duo rose and quickly pulled an extra plate out of the cupboard.  
  
"Duo?"  
  
"In the kitchen!"  
  
Heero entered the kitchen and frowned at the sight of Hilde. She smiled wanly at him.  
  
"Good evening, Heero."  
  
"Hilde was as kind as to offer me some company," Duo said, and it came out more reproaching than he intended. Hilde was the only one to see Heero's glare change from mildly annoyed to plain irritated.  
  
"I must be going, Duo," she said, putting down her napkin. He turned away from the stove.  
  
"So soon? You're not going to stay for extra practice?"  
  
"I'll do some more exercises at home, promise," she said. Duo filled Heero's plate with food and put it on the kitchen counter.  
  
"Here you go, Heero."  
  
He didn't acknowledge Duo's help and sat down, plate set in front of him. Duo didn't await his answer and walked with Hilde to the door.  
  
She put on her coat and gave Duo a sad smile.  
  
"Sometimes I'm really afraid for you, Duo."  
  
"What for?" Duo didn't understand her words. "Is this about Heero again.."  
  
"Never mind," she said abruptly, "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he waved her goodbye. He watched her retreating back. She wasn't the only one frightened by Heero, or at least a bit subdued in his company. Duo leaned onto the door. Her footsteps died away.  
  
He was falling. Falling and falling. They laughed at him, the soldiers who had come to destroy everything around him. Death surrounded him, laughing, cackling like a loon. A church was reduced to ashes, a gold cross, handed to him with the departing breath of the one man he loved and trusted at that moment. They laughed at him. A simple monument of bricks and stone reminded others of those who died in a massacre. He was pushed to the brass plate with the engraved names of the fallen. His name wasn't there.  
  
"I should've been there.." Duo whimpered. Something gnawed at him. He was strangled. He reached out, lifted his arms, but he couldn't reach them.  
  
"No!" Duo shot up, heaving and sweating. His sweat-drenched braid clung to his bare back, and he almost shredded the sheet.  
  
"Oh God... when does it stop?" He stumbled out of the bed, finding his way to the bathroom in the dark. The nightmares mostly occurred when he was under a lot of pressure; he had come a long way in dealing with them-- they used to come every night. Duo pulled at the faucet and stuck his hands in the cool, running water. He splashed water in his face and took a towel to dry himself off.  
  
While he was panting for air, it suddenly dawned on him that Heero hadn't come after him. By now, he had expected two strong, warm arms around him, soothing him, telling him that everything was all right and that he was protected. He craved protection in times like these.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
He called out softly. It could be possible that Heero didn't hear him, and he hadn't put on any lights. Slowly, Duo came out of the bathroom, towel firmly clutched in his hands.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
It was pretty dark in the bedroom; Duo moved slowly but steadily towards the bed. He reached forward and pulled the light cord.  
  
The bed was empty. He was alone. 


	5. Chapter 5

Detective Trowa Barton returned to his office with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. It was his third night shift in a row-- and there would be more as long as the Catalonia case remained unsolved. He seated himself behind his desk which was covered in paperwork and had a huge pile of folders teetering over the edge.  
  
He took a sip of his drink. He recently received the reports from the coroner. Trowa didn't have to open it, as he knew it by heart. He had studied it intensely, but there was nothing more he could make out of the coroner's conclusion, neatly scribbled below on the form: "Cause of death: broken neck".  
  
He had called the man for more details, but there weren't any. The man had told him, just as his report showed, that there were no signs of violence or sexual assault. There wasn't a single drop of blood on her and her clothes hadn't had any wrinkles. Dorothy Catalonia didn't show any sign of self-defense, she must have been surprised in the dark. She was on her way from a trendy bar to her limousine, courtesy of her grandfather. Her time of death was established at 03:00 am.  
  
Trowa tapped on the file. Dorothy's chauffeur had gone looking for her when she didn't show up on time. Duke Dermail insisted that a chauffeur always picked up his granddaughter, no matter what. The man had discovered her body in the shrubs, two meters away from the limousine, and had called the emergency number. Trowa lifted one of the files from the huge stack.  
  
"Don't bother re-reading it. You should be able to recite them in your sleep." Chang Wufei, detective and his colleague for over four years, stood at the open door. He was one of the few detectives who preferred tea to coffee-- but that could have something to do with his Chinese roots.  
  
Trowa grimaced. "We've had quite the cases, Chang. Serial killers, rapists, the case of that guy who murdered his wife and ate her for dinner-- you name it, we've seen it all. So why is this one so difficult?"  
  
"I'd say 'different'." Wufei took a seat behind his desk and eyed his own pile of files. "We don't have a motive. We don't have a suspect. After all the investigation we have done, we've only learned that Dorothy Catalonia was a typical, temperamental girl in the midst of her puberty, thinking about boys and parties and hating her forced piano lessons."  
  
Trowa heaved a sigh. The office wasn't spacious- it could barely contain the two massive desks and their chairs. A file cabinet, a small side-table bearing the weight of enormous stacks of files, and a little stool for visitors, was all crammed in this mere excuse for a broom closet.  
  
"I've had it up to here with Une," Wufei continued, making a gesture with his hand above his head. "She asks me every day, every night, if we've made some progress." He snorted. "We're the top team, all of the sudden."  
  
"Dermail will have our heads if this case remains unsolved," Trowa answered. He opened the folder. "We can't work with what evidence we have so far."  
  
"Tell me about it." Wufei hated this, this helpless, powerless feeling. He was one of the best detectives in the homicide division. His teaming up with Trowa Barton, also a specialist in his field, had resulted in the highest percentage of solved cases. Other agents lacked the sense of determination, the perseverance to go on with a case and to go beyond. Wufei snorted again.  
  
His wife Meiran wasn't always happy with him, but at least she understood the importance of his work.  
  
"We have interviewed everybody Dorothy had possibly or probably come into contact with," Trowa summarized. "Ex-boyfriends, ex-friends, fellow students, her teachers, nannies, former employees of the Dermail household."  
  
"Face it Barton, we have to leave our usual work method. Nobody had an apparent reason for killing her. We either have to dig deeper, or."  
  
"...she was murdered by a professional."  
  
"A hit contract?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Wufei carefully sipped at his hot tea. "The question remains-- what could possibly be accomplished by killing Dorothy Catalonia?"  
  
"Getting back at her grandfather. Revenge."  
  
He shook his head. "We've been over this theory before."  
  
"Dermail was tough as nails in his career as politician. Maybe."  
  
"He retired ten years ago, and even though he received some threats as a politician, they were never executed. I seriously doubt it that someone would want to teach Dermail a lesson when he is a retired politician for a decade."  
  
Trowa shrugged. "You never know."  
  
"I say we concentrate on the method of killing." Wufei leaned forward on his desk. His pager rang-- three high tones. Before he answered, he pointed at the folders on Trowa's desk. "If we compare it to known killing methods, maybe we can find a match for a murderer."  
  
He snatched the pager and checked the display.  
  
"Never mind Barton, we have another murder."  
  
They reached the crime scene in fifteen minutes. Trowa parked the car, while Wufei strode to the site of the murder. An officer handed him a plastic bag.  
  
"This was on the victim, sir. Watch your step."  
  
Wufei followed the officer. He clenched his teeth. As if the Catalonia case wasn't stressing enough, there were enough maniacs loose on this colony to fill his workdays 24/7. No wonder he could always hear Meiran rolling her eyes when he had to phone her for saying he would come in late.  
  
Trowa caught up with them. It was a typical back alley in a suburban neighborhood, complete with dumpsters, a hobo, and fire exits. Wufei held up the yellow plastic for Trowa to duck under and they walked behind the officer towards a pile of cardboard boxes.  
  
"God, not in a box," Trowa muttered. He had seen a lot- and seeing bodies in these... circumstances, always made him cringe.  
  
Wufei dug in the plastic bag to retrieve a wallet. The officer pointed at the woman lying on her back, on a black and red striped plaid blanket, shielded from rain or dirt by the typical stacking of the cardboard boxes.  
  
Trowa kneeled and looked the woman in the face; black hair, a reddish beret, lilac coat. He looked up at Wufei.  
  
"I know her," Trowa said.  
  
"You're right," he confirmed. He showed the ID card he took out of the wallet, but Trowa didn't give it a look.  
  
"Hilde Schbeiker."  
  
Duo stood in the bedroom and stared at the empty bed. The alarm clock indicated the ungodly hour of 03:00 am. He didn't notice the sweat starting to roll down his face.  
  
"Heero. Heero, where are you?"  
  
The sound of the key in the door lock startled him. Duo spun around and quickly ran to the door, his open pajama top waving behind him like a cloak.  
  
"Heero!"  
  
Heero's eyes grew just a bit wider.  
  
"Duo! What are you doing out of bed?"  
  
Duo overlooked the small paper bag Heero held in his left hand and he swung his arm. Heero stopped him before he could even hit him.  
  
"Duo, what are you doing out of bed?" He repeated. He looked confused and concerned. Duo took a step back.  
  
"What are you doing outside at this hour? Don't you know how you scared me? Heero, for Christ's sake, you shouldn't be out there! Who knows what happens. what were you thinking? What were you doing?"  
  
"Calm down, calm down." Heero held up the paper bag and rustled with it. "I had to go to the night pharmacy. You were having a nightmare and we ran out of medicine."  
  
"So you decided to get some on this hour?" Duo screamed.  
  
Heero opened his arms. "You're upset, my love. Come here."  
  
Duo hesitated. "I... I..."  
  
"Come here." His voice sounded a bit more commanding, but still with the care and the love only Heero could show. Duo was almost in tears. This was the tender side of Heero no one got to see, and how he wished Heero would show some of his tenderness towards others. His shell, forged and fortified by horrors of war, came only down in moments like these, where he was so vulnerable that it almost hurt Duo to see him like that.  
  
"God. I'm so sorry, Heero." Without further hesitance, Duo flung himself in Heero's arm. He was almost crushed by Heero's strength, holding them together.  
  
"I would never do something to scare you, Duo," he whispered, showering Duo's face with curt, tender kisses. "I'm so sorry, but I really wanted to get your medicine. I know how tired you get when you don't sleep well. You need your rest, especially in these times."  
  
"It's been so long. but still I can't forget..." Duo whispered.  
  
"No one wants you to forget," Heero's voice soothed him. "You've survived a horrible massacre; you've seen a church burning. I don't want you to forget. I want you to remember."  
  
"Why..." Duo said, sleepy. "I want... to forget... death. I want to... escape death."  
  
"You're safe in my arms. Let me take care of you, Duo. I'll protect you. No one comes close to you. You're safe." Heero repeated. "You're so strong. You've been through so much. I'll be here to protect you. And if anyone comes close..." he wrapped his arms even closer and made sure he heard a soft snoring sound from Duo, "...I'll kill them." 


	6. Chapter 6

The coroner gently draped the white sheet over the female body. His assistant handed him a clipboard with the all too familiar forms.

"Broken neck," he voiced out loud, writing the statement down on the form. "No visual signs of assault or sexual assault. No defence wounds. Time of death estimated at 3:00 AM."

"Just like Dorothy Catalonia." Trowa wrinkled his nose. The analgesic gel could hardly keep the lingering smell of the morgue away. Wufei stood next to him, arms crossed.

"Don't tell me we have a goddamn serial killer."

He was not a man quick and easy with swear words, and Trowa knew how upset he was. The possibility of a serial killer on the loose opened a whole new can of worms, not to mention a new aspect of the case. 

The coroner completed filling out the forms. "Do you want me to perform full autopsy?"

"No." Wufei shook his head. "Please notify her family and next-of-kin. I think it's safe to say you won't find anything more than a broken neck."

The man was quick to understand. "Right, just like Catalonia."

"Just like her." Wufei sighed.

"I need some coffee," Trowa said. The coroner and his assistant busied themselves with the forms and the preparations of the body for release and didn't notice the two detectives leaving the morgue.

Wufei rubbed at his temples. "Une's going to be very pissed about this. Just what we need - a psycho randomly killing women."

"Perhaps not randomly," Trowa suggested. They reached the end of the hallway and took a right turn, towards their office.

"You're thinking about the piano teacher?"

"The girls were both his student. There must be something we've missed." Trowa didn't sound very confident. He knew Wufei's judgmental skills and his own observation skills. Thinking back to their first encounter, it struck Trowa again that Duo Maxwell was one of the few people where honesty could be read off of their faces. \\_Or he was a damned good actor.\_\

"Or just overlooked, maybe. We have the name of his life partner. He was absent at the time we questioned Maxwell. It looked like a cold lead at that moment, but I think it's time to pick it up."

Wufei opened the door to the office.

"We haven't much to work with," he continued. "We better prepare before we pay him a visit. Call the lab to analyse the plaid blanket we found. Her clothing has to be searched for prints, the works. We have to notify the Schbeiker family."

Silence fell. Both detectives hated the notifying with a passion. Trowa heaved a sigh.

"I thought I had seen everything right about now… but this case keeps amazing me." 

"We will find our perpetrator, Barton. Justice is on our side."

Trowa followed his colleague into the office, suddenly feeling subdued. Two murders and hardly a lead to work on except that they were both students of Duo Maxwell, a piano teacher with hands and fingers so fine and slender that Trowa seriously doubted if they were ever able to break a neck. 

Duo sometimes really hated himself. He stood in front of the mirror with his toothbrush in hand, his long chestnut hair neatly and tightly braided, dressed in his usual black and white attire. Heero was close to him, putting on aftershave.

"You're staring at yourself. What's the matter?" Heero put away the lotion.

"I just wish I could be strong as you," Duo said. He turned around to face Heero. "God, how you must be sick of me, whining and snivelling! Those damn nightmares…"

Heero closed the distance between them with one step and embraced Duo. "How dare you think of yourself like that! Duo… listen to me, Duo!"

He cupped Duo's face and gazed in his lover's eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that you are the strongest one of us? You've been through so much in your life, and still you sparkle and smile, you laugh and you live. You're alive, Duo, so alive!"

"You call me alive?" He dropped his toothbrush, unaware. "I'm in this apartment all day, every day, I have nightmares and I have seen so much death that I…"

"Sshh," Heero silenced him with a kiss. Duo shivered.

"You've seen a church burning, you've lost everything you ever loved. It would be traumatic for anyone, so don't blame yourself for the nightmares. I'm here to protect you, remember? I'm here and I'll protect you, from everything."

"From everyone as well?" Duo looked Heero straight in the eye. He cocked his head.

"What do you mean by that?" 

"I - I'm sorry Heero, I didn't… I meant to say… that you're also protecting me from yourself." Duo took Heero by the hand when he withdrew. "See? That's what I mean! You're retreating!"

 "We've been over this before," Heero answered, voice colder. "Duo, I don't want to go through this all again."

"Why don't you tell me, Heero? Why don't you? You know I won't judge you… but sometimes it feels like you're the only one who knows me, and I don't know you."

Duo felt awkward. He noticed the toothbrush on the floor and the toothpaste smeared on the bath mat. 

"What is it you want to know?" It came out as a sigh. Heero didn't pull himself free, but Duo could feel his tensed muscles.

"What happened to you in the war?"

"Please, Duo. I beg of you stop reliving the war for me. It's too personal."

"Too personal?" Duo gaped. "You talk about it every time with your precious war buddies! Why do you leave me out of this important period in your life? What do \\_they_\\ contribute that I don't?"

Heero looked pained and Duo regretted his words. The war, even though it ended more then five years ago, had been too big of a wall between them from the beginning of their relationship. He had to accept certain walls in Heero's life… but this one, this wall was coming down now.

"They're soldiers and you're not, Duo. They understand, on a different level. They understand that pain and suffering is not to be talked about over tea and cookies, but that it's part of the mission."

He stalked out of the bathroom, leaving Duo in surprise. The living room door clicked shut softly. Duo averted his eyes from his mirror image. What was wrong with him, asking, confronting Heero like that? They had fought about it before, but not this vehement. He kneeled to pick up the toothbrush and rinsed it clean. He felt like a bastard, prying it out of Heero, but he needed the answers. It took him a minute to realise that these answers gave rise to even more questions. He put the toothbrush back on the shelf and saw the medicine cabinet. Hesitant, he opened the small, starch white door. Automatically, Duo searched on the second shelf past the band aids and a package of common aspirin. He dismissed a small bottle of Zolpidem and the well-known Zoloft; nowadays he only used the sleeping aid or the anti depressants when in his mind his burden became too hard to bear. He reached the small package he was searching for. When in therapy, he had the good fortune to be treated by Doctor Sally Po.  She had served in the war, and was recommended for dealing with post traumatic stress syndrome, forthcoming from the war. She had praised him on his strength to overcome his trauma, but he praised her for her excellent understanding and compassion. He didn't want to regard himself as a war victim, he refused to see himself as one-- he hadn't sustained injuries, he hadn't battled in the front lines. She was the one to help him realise that his issues and nightmares came from the events he had been through, the murder of his foster family, and the destruction of a church where he had felt safe. She had shown him that he didn't have to be a soldier to be a victim of the war, and he couldn't get that message across to Heero. Hearing Heero say that his war buddies - those drunken cronies - understood him better than he did freakin' hurt. With an irritated gesture, Duo swept over the shelf, lifted the package and tore it open. Two strips fell out. Sally Po had prescribed these to him to deal with the nightmares. Clorazil was a pretty strong tranquilliser, stronger than Zolpidem and Zoloft combined. Duo picked up the two strips. One was full, the other one missed only two pills. He had hardly used the medication these days, and this stock was sufficient for a long time to come. Duo looked silently at the pill strips. 

"What's… what's going on in here?" 

Heero was in the kitchen and had almost finished preparing breakfast. Duo came up to him and put his hands on his shoulders. Heero spun around and smiled. 

"You're so beautiful."

Duo touched him on the forehead. "You're beautiful too."

They kissed, tension not completely forgotten. Heero withdrew and he motioned to the kitchen table. 

"Hilde is late," Duo said. He picked up a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and took a sip. 

"What would you say if I stayed home with you today," Heero said and put a bowl of cereal on the table. "To make up for it?"

"Really?"

"My war buddies are low priority when it comes to you." He held out a jar of milk to pour on the cereal. "If that's okay with you and the students, of course."

"It would be great! Heero, I don't want you to sacrifice your pleasures. I just want you to meet other people, instead of bitter war veterans."

"I'll observe you and your students the whole day," Heero answered and embraced Duo, nudging his head. Duo parted his lips. 

"Kiss me, Mr. Observant."

After a few minutes they were interrupted by the doorbell. Duo ruffled Heero's bangs. 

"That'll be Hilde, and about time too!"

He sprinted to the front door without waiting for Heero's answer and swung the door open. "So where have you been? You're late by about thirty minu… oh, sorry, Quatre."

Quatre Winner laughed amicably. "I'm always early, Duo. I don't want to miss a minute of class!"

He held up the recital books. "I want to learn to play the nocturne just as good as you."

"That'll take you some time, but I like your enthusiasm," Duo quipped. "Come on in."

Quatre stepped inside and put the books on the little side table by the door. "I practised a lot in my free time. I never thought I was going to… oh, good morning, Mr. Yuy."

Duo had just taken Quatre's coat and this time he saw the scowl on his lover's face. There was something in Heero's demeanour that didn't exactly encourage visitors to greet him as jovially as Duo. 

"Good morning, Mr. Winner," was his curt answer and Duo hurried to continue the conversation. 

"Why don't you wait in the living room, Quatre. Tea? Heero, do you want to make some tea? I'm going to call Hilde-- she's never this late."

Heero disappeared into the kitchen and Quatre went into the living room. Duo took the phone and quickly dialled the number. He knew the number of his good friend by heart and was astounded that nobody picked up.

"There must be something wrong. Why doesn't she pick up?"

Heero answered out of the kitchen. "Maybe she's busy with school."

"She never forgets a lesson and if she couldn't make it, she'd have called me," Duo replied. He dialled her number again and left a message on her answering machine. Heero busied himself with making tea. Duo thanked him by pecking him on the cheek and was about to leave the kitchen, when he turned around.. 

"You can amuse yourself, can't you?"

Heero smiled wanly. "I haven't been toying with the laptop for a while."

"Great," Duo answered. He winked at Heero before he went to the living room. He'd rather have Heero showing interest for his laptop and computers in general than him spending time with Khushrenada and Marquise.

\\_"It's really not fair of me,"_\\ Duo thought while he paused to keep the tea from spilling on the carpet. \\_"Heero does everything for me, I shouldn't keep him from seeing his only friends."_\\ He frowned. If his 'friends' just stopped dwelling over the war and tried to look to the future. If they just stopped reviving his memories of a terrible period with their so-called 'understanding', if they just quit refuelling Heero's paranoid feelings of protection ... Duo shook his head. The matter of Heero's friends would be a difficult subject for a long time to come. He straightened himself--  he had a student to attend to.


	7. Chapter 7

Quatre stood in the living room, next to the Bösendorfer. He had put his study books on the stool and looked with full expectation to Duo. 

"When will I be able to play at this beautiful piece of work?" He stroked the piano. Duo put the cup of tea down and smiled. He had two piano's- one for his students, a simple upright, and the Bösendorfer, where only he played on.

"That one isn't for the students, unless you're really, really, really good," he exaggerated. The piano was his 'baby'-- all his life, from his early memories of his life on the streets until now, he longed for a piano like this one, and God knew he had worked and slaved hard enough for it. 

"Then I have to study more, I guess." Quatre sat down on the couch. "I must say that after every lesson I'm more stimulated to practice. You have a wonderful way of inspiring your students."

Duo sat down on the loveseat and felt his face flush. "Thank you. I'm glad you're more enthusiastic for the piano, after all, you always claimed to prefer the violin."

Quatre laughed, like a string of bells. "I haven't touched it since I started here! Even my father is amazed. He says I've turned a whole new leaf. I never guessed that piano also could express so much emotion."

"Is that why you're playing music?" Duo made himself comfortable in the chair. He loved discussing music and Quatre had proven to have some quite interesting points of view. 

"Not solely for expression emotions. It's also entertainment for me, a sort of escape from the world. After studying so much text books and writing the umpteenth paper on whatever business proposal, there is nothing more satisfying than picking up an instrument and drifting away into another world."

"That depends on which piece you choose," Duo said.

"Exactly!" Quatre almost jumped up from the couch. "When I'm feeling chagrined, I choose another piece than when I feeling happy, or angry."

"I know what you mean," Duo smiled. "Did you know there are many pieces written for violin and piano? A powerful combination."

"I have listened to a lot of piano music since I started here," Quatre confessed. "It would be great if we could play something together!" His face fairly lit up at the thought alone. "But I have really started to like Chopin."

"Ah, my favourite composer," Duo exclaimed. He noticed that Quatre's teacup was almost empty. Hilde still hadn't arrived. He steered his thoughts away from her, hoping that she'd be alright and had a good excuse for not showing up. He expected the phone to ring any second.

"What's your favourite Chopin piece?"

Quatre didn't hesitate for a second. "The nocturne."

They both jumped up because of a crashing sound coming out of the kitchen.

"Heero?" Duo rose quickly and he was near the kitchen when Heero came out, with pieces of porcelain in his hands. 

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry, I was just doing dishes when the plate slipped out of my hand. I couldn't catch it."

"Be careful not to cut yourself," Duo admonished. He let out a sigh of relief. "I thought something happened to you."

"Only to the dishes," Heero mumbled absent-minded, but he threw a look over Duo's shoulder into the living room before he turned around and disappeared into the kitchen again.

Duo looked at his watch. It was time to start Quatre's lesson. He spun around and bumped into Quatre, who stood right behind him.

"Something wrong?"

"No, just some broken dishes. Well, let's get started with your class, shall we?"

"Let's wait for Hilde, she could show up… maybe you can play it for me?"

"What?" Duo was taken by surprise. Quatre blinked at him; radiant blue eyes, with a deep warmth to them.

"Chopin's nocturne," Quatre answered, looking a bit shy. "On the Bösendorfer, please?"

"O... okay," Duo said. He didn't know why, but he walked on autopilot to the piano and took his seat. It didn't surprise him that Quatre took the seat next to him. Duo always sat close to his students to watch their improvements, so why shouldn't Quatre sit next to him to observe his teacher? 

"The beauty of Chopin's nocturne is its hidden force," Quatre said. "It starts out so hesitant, like it's searching for confidence and... approval, of some sorts. It stretches out to find its roots, its way into the surroundings, increasing stronger with every tone. Then there is another... current. Fast, fast, slow, like two heartbeats revolving around each other; the theme that repeats itself,  asking for more. It's still hesitant, but it becomes strong.  Retreating, resurfacing. Demanding, yet giving in."

"You have a very vivid imagination, Quatre, and a unique way of describing it." Duo lifted the lid of the keys. "I love to hear anyone else's interpretation of a piece. A piece can only be good as the one who's playing it. The way you interpret a piece, that's the way it's going to sound. Strong, melancholic, distant, warm. Music is so universal and so individual at the same time, telling us, showing us, revealing to us, but yet still manages to..."

"...elude us," Quatre finished and he was so close he could have whispered it into Duo's ear. 

Duo shifted a little. "It's too difficult for you."

"I have time to practise," Quatre chuckled. "Holidays are coming up and I like to practice. I thought I'd always be playing the violin, but you showed me the beauty of the piano... Duo."

Duo put his hands on the keys, ignoring Quatre's last words. He put his feet on the pedals and started to play, the apartment filling itself with the tones of the piano, the Bösendorfer adding  extra depth to the piece. 

He wasn't halfway the nocturne when the doorbell rang. Duo didn't notice, he was so occupied by the piece that only after a pull from Quatre he snapped out of his concentration.

"What?"

"The doorbell, Duo," he said, slightly amused. "I don't hear anyone answering it."

"Oh! Heero? Heero!" Duo rose from his stool and walked to the door. "Heero, where are you?"

"What is it?" He came out of the kitchen and removed the earpieces of the disc man he was wearing. "Someone at the door? I didn't hear it…"

With Heero trailing behind him, Duo opened the door. His face fell when he saw the two detectives, only to light up in a mere second.

"Detectives Chang and Barton! You have a breakthrough!"

"Not exactly, Mr. Maxwell. May we come in?" Wufei eyed the confused looking piano teacher, and registered immediately another presence.

"Mr. Yuy? I ask of you not to leave the apartment until we are finished." He wanted to enter, but Heero blocked the way. 

"What is this all about? Why do you threaten me?"  

"I sincerely apologise if it sounded like a threat, Mr. Yuy, I didn't intend it that way. However, in the light of current events, I ask of you to please stay around until we are finished." 

The shiver down his spine was not unexpected. Heero's eyes had gone from inquiring to examining-- and the detective felt suddenly naked under the intense gaze. He wondered for a brief moment how Trowa would feel under this meticulous observation.

"Come in," Duo said, albeit hesitant. Heero moved about an inch and the two detectives had to squirm their way past him. 

"Just a second." Duo went before them into the living room. Wufei and Trowa followed him. 

They both saw a blond young man standing before the grand piano, fiddling with text books. 

"I'm sorry about the lesson, Quatre, we have to reschedule…"

"It's alright. I'll come back tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll call you. Please understand that Hilde gets an extra lesson because she didn't show up today, so it'll be later…"

Wufei quirked an eyebrow. They didn't talk that softly and the mention of the murdered girl surprised him. When Quatre clearly wanted to leave, Trowa stopped him. 

"You're a student of Mr. Maxwell?"

"Yes, why?" Quatre shot a nervous look between the both of them. "I'm going to be late for my business class."

"I'd just like to ask you a few questions." Trowa motioned to the kitchen. "Let's go there."

"What's going on?" Heero barked. Wufei raised his hand. 

"Sit down, Mr. Yuy, Mr. Maxwell. The case has become considerably complicated since our last visit."

"Dorothy," Duo said. "You have a breakthrough, don't you? And why do you want to talk to my student?"

"Because apparently all of your students are in danger, Mr. Maxwell. Take a seat, before…"

"What happened? What do you mean, all of my students?" Duo didn't notice that Heero came to stand behind him. "What's going on?"

"I regret to inform you that another one of your students has been found dead." Wufei spoke to Duo, but looked at Heero. He tried to meet the blazing eyes unfailingly, but had to avert his head.

"I'm very sorry, but Hilde Schbeiker has been murdered."

The only sound was a soft click of the front door, followed by hardly audible footsteps. Trowa Barton entered the living room, note book clasped in his hand. 

"Hil... Hilde...?" Duo was as pale as a ghost. "Impossible... what... what happened?" Heero hovered behind him and took his arm.

"I need to ask a few questions. Please, take a seat." Wufei motioned to the loveseat. 

"Hilde?" Duo repeated, slowly swaying on his feet. "God, what's... what is happening? What's going on?"

"Miss Catalonia and Miss Schbeiker were both your students, Mr. Maxwell. I'm sorry, but you have to come to the station with us for further questioning."

"I..." Duo began, looking terrified, while Heero spat: "No!"

Trowa tried to calm the situation. "Please understand that we're not arresting you." He hesitated, as if he wanted to add the word 'yet', but he continued: "It's better for the development of the case if you were to come with us to the station."

"No!" Heero repeated, hands clamping Duo's upper arms. "He stays here."

"Hilde..." Duo whispered absent minded, as in trance. Sweat rolled over his forehead. He had seen so many deaths, so close by. He thought he had escaped death the exact moment he turned around and left the charred remains of a burning church behind him, thought he escaped death by every footstep he took in the opposite direction. 

"Death has been waiting for me all along," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"  Wufei leaned forward, wondering if he'd heard the piano teacher right. Trowa tried to get the upper hand in the conversation. 

"Please put on your coat, Mr. Maxwell. Mr. Yuy, if you would be so kind to come with us as well."

Wufei was taken aback by the angry look in Heero's eyes. It was a look of pure hatred, fired at him and boring right into him, with a force to shatter him into thousand pieces. Heero had his arms crossed over Duo's chest, embracing him in what looked like to Wufei an almost painful position; yet it didn't escape him that Duo had closed his hands over Heero's arms.

"Can't you see how upset you are making him? Leave, before he collapses!"

"I think I'm going to throw up," Duo said in a soft tone, probably not intended to be overheard. He looked sickly white.

"This is an urgent matter," Wufei snarled. "We can provide medical assistance at the police station if necessary for Mr. Maxwell's... situation, but the possibility of fainting is not keeping us from going downtown."

"You. Are. Not. Leaving. With. Him." Heero's stance became even more defensive. Trowa shot a questioning look at Wufei.

"Please sir, don't make things more difficult. As I told you, he's not under arrest. It's for the benefit of the case if he'd come with us. Don't make us call for back-up because you're obstructing our work."

"His best friend has been murdered and you come here to accuse him!" Heero moved Duo a little bit to the side so he had one hand free; Wufei last suspicions about Heero were confirmed. The detective was trained in martial arts, but he didn't know if his skills were sufficient to subdue this soldier. Heero was strong, the rippling muscles were a dead give-away, but Wufei didn't fear his physical strength. It was in his eyes; the fanatical glittering that told both detectives that Heero would fight to death to protect the one he was holding; Duo. 

"In the interest of the memory of Hilde Schbeiker you'll let him go with us to the station. This needs to be solved, Mr. Yuy, and you can't deny that two of your partner's students are dead. Who says it's going to stay with the students-- and not that the teacher is becoming the next victim?"

"Never," Heero gritted between his teeth. "They would have to come past \\_me_\\_._ Now leave! Duo needs attention."

"Heero, no, no," Duo tried to pry himself loose from Heero's firm grip. "I want to go with them. I... I need to do this."

"You can't. You're not leaving the house! Hilde is dead, I don't want you to take any risk. You stay inside. It's safer here."

"No! Heero, let me go. I want to…" His hand went to his mouth and suddenly he broke free from Heero's grip, running towards the bathroom. The door shut violently, followed by retched heaving noises. If Wufei had thought Heero had looked with pure hatred at him before, this look was a thousand times worse.

"Get out of here! Are you happy now? You're making everything worse! Now get out, before I kick both of you out!"

"It's not very wise of you to threaten two detectives in function," Wufei said. 

"I don't give a damn." Heero snarled. He straightened himself. "You can come up here with all the back-up you want. You can threaten me or try to arrest me. You're not going anywhere with Duo."

Wufei tried to contain his irritation. "We told you that he's not under arrest, but we need to question him about this murder. It happens to be his second student who was found murdered. With all due respect Mr. Yuy, what if he's going to be the next victim? You can't protect him forever."

"Yes I can. And now leave!" Heero took a step in their direction. Both Wufei and Trowa stepped back.

"Alright, alright. Before we go, we want a list of your students, right now." 

Heero snarled something inaudible and moved to the right to open a teak cabinet. Trowa stole a quick look at Wufei; the look on the detective's face was indescribable. Irritation, anger, and frustration screwed up his Chinese features and were directed at Heero, rummaging through the cabinet and pulling out a yellow piece of paper.

"Here! Take this and leave."

Wufei grabbed the piece of paper and pocketed it. Just as he wanted to say something, Duo reappeared in the living room, still looking ghostly white and swaying on his feet, but determined enough to say, though in a weak voice: "Are we going yet?"

"We're not going anywhere," Heero answered him. "You're going straight to bed to get some rest. You're completely upset. I'll get your medication."

With the single raising of Duo's hands Heero was stopped dead in his tracks.

"We're going with the detectives, right now. I want this sorted out and solved. Dorothy... and Hilde... deserve more than becoming a cold case. I want to help."

"Are you sure you can handle this? You need some attention," Heero objected. The look he directed at the detectives was murderous, yet at Duo it was this strange mixture of frustration, love and anxiety. 

"We're going," Duo repeated and to the detective's surprise Heero obeyed-- he went to fetch their coats, mouth drawn into a tight line and fierce blue eyes fuming anger and irritation, yet when he hung the coat around Duo's shoulders the gesture spoke of love and careful attention.


	8. Chapter 8

The ride back to the police station was in forced silence. Duo leaned onto Heero on the backseat of Wufei's car and when they finally arrived, sweat was trickling down from the piano teacher's brow. Trowa wanted to help him out of the car, but backed off quickly when Heero stepped out on the other side and threw him a look that told him not to even think of assisting - and thereby touching -  Duo.

On the stairs to the entrance, Duo let his hand slip out of Heero's. Wufei didn't miss the surprised look on Duo's face when Heero grabbed his hand again immediately, clasping their fingers together. After entering, one of the secretaries, a woman with short cropped hair and dressed in a western blouse, stormed into Wufei. 

"Officer Chang, officer Barton, Lady Une has asked five times about you. I have twenty return calls for you, I need your signature on these forms and…"

"Put everything in our office, Lucrezia. Is room 412 unoccupied?"

The woman turned around and picked up a large schedule from the reception desk. She flipped through the pages and said: "It's only booked for the afternoon. It's free for now."

"Please mark it as 'in use' Lucrezia, and bring us some coffee and water, if you please."

She mumbled some confirmation and the detectives led Duo and Heero up two stairs. The hallway was filled with officers, cops on duty, secretaries and other people, minding the day's business in a police station. Wufei noticed the increasing firm walk of the piano teacher. Duo still looked pale as a sheet and his hands grabbed Heero's arm convulsively, but his walk was firm and his eyes determined. _\\A strength struggling to surface.... \\_

"In here, please," Trowa unlocked the door of room 412. It was one of the largest interrogation rooms and one of the 'friendliest', as detectives came to call it; it had large, albeit barred, windows and  light yellow paint on the walls. The abundance of daylight into the large room gave a softening glance to the cold, metal furniture-- one large table and four chairs.

"Mr. Yuy, please understand that we're going to question you separately. I have to ask you to follow me to another room where you can wait until we get you." Trowa addressed Heero directly. Duo already took a seat, the one closest to the window. His face was lit by the daylight, turning it into a sickly yellow colour, while his eyes remained in the shadows. His chestnut bangs caused their own shadows, one reaching his nose, displaying his profile in a painting of light and dark planes. He sat down and the short moment of almost palpable vulnerability was ruptured. The piano teacher put his hands on the table and huddled in his seat.

"Duo needs my help," Heero stated. He had caught, without a doubt, the same moment of vulnerability and his tight jaw betrayed the tension running through him. He wanted to take a step forward, but Trowa raised his hands.

"Please follow my colleague to the waiting room, Mr. Yuy." Wufei didn't raise his voice, but he certainly left no other room for interpretation. Heero opened his mouth to answer rather angrily, but it was Duo again who calmed him.

"It's alright, Heero. It's alright."

Without a word, Heero turned around and grabbed the doorknob, jerking violently at it. The door swung open and Trowa hurried to follow him. Wufei took a seat opposite Duo and watched him closely.

"Are you alright?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up any minute."

"Barton will return with some water soon."

"Thank you."

Silence fell. Duo seemed to study his hands, while he blinked his eyes frantically.

"The news of your friend is hard to take," Wufei admonished. Duo leaned a bit forward with his head.

"I will not cry. Not again."

Just as Wufei was about to ask him what he meant, the door opened and Trowa entered, followed by Lucrezia. He had brought a tape recorder and some paper files, while she put a thermos of coffee, a bottle of water, and some cups on the table. After she left the room, Wufei addressed Trowa. 

"How's Yuy?"

"I left him with Otto. He was anxious, but he backed off after a while."

Trowa sat down next to Wufei and busied himself with pouring coffee and water. Wufei set up the tape recorder, put in a new, blank tape and opened the first folder. He pressed 'record'. 

"Detective Chang and Barton, questioning in the Catalonia-Schbeiker case…" he rattled off a whole list of numbers, the date and the location. Then he shoved the tape recorder to the middle of the table and asked: "Please state your full name."

"Duo Maxwell," Duo answered. 

"Okay, Mr. Maxwell, as we explained to you before, you're not under arrest. We're going to ask you some questions concerning the Catalonia-Schbeiker case."

"Do I need a lawyer or something?" Duo sounded meekly.

"Not for this, as you're not under arrest yet. We haven't appointed you as a suspect."

Wufei tapped with his fingers on the table. "We have two girls, murdered, who have the only thing in common that they're - they were students of yours. How did you get to know them, Mr. Maxwell?"

"I've known Hilde for quite some time, ten years. I met her in a Child Aid Program home."

Trowa had opened another file. "The Child Aid Program was set up by as a collaboration between charities and the colony governments, especially the L2 colony cluster, during the war," he recited while reading off a paper. "Their goal was to offer juvenile war victims a place in foster homes, to stabilize their lives and to continue education until they were old enough to support themselves. Most of the male orphans ended up in the military."

"Why were you there, Mr. Maxwell?"

"I was the only survivor of the Maxwell Church Tragedy," Duo answered rather bluntly. Wufei quirked his eyebrow. 

"My... apologies, Mr. Maxwell,  I didn't make the connection."

"I'm not different," Duo spat out, suddenly angered. "I have gone through this and I survived! I don't know why exactly the Church was world news, there were lots of other people who were going through worse, for whom war was even more vicious and…"

"As for Heero?" Trowa asked.

Duo looked at him, surprised. He calmed down.

"Yes, for people like Heero and... Hilde. Hilde lost her parents in the war too. I didn't even know my parents. She came into the Program home three years after me and we were friends from the moment we met. Hilde was buried under her house for two days before they found her. What I have gone through, is nothing compared to her tragedy."

"You saw a church being destroyed and you lived on the streets for more then seven years before you got into the relative shelter of a home. Be it as it may, Hilde Schbeiker had had at least some family and some certainties in her life."

"And she's dead," Duo whispered. 

"Can you tell us what Hilde did when the war was over?"

Duo reached for a glass of water. "We kept in touch, if only to remind each other of our dreams. I wanted to become a pianist, she a doctor. After the war, I had found Heero, and she a foster family who was really good to her. They stimulated her studies and well… she was my first piano student." He smiled fondly in remembrance. "She also brought in new students. I always teased her she should go into public relations."

Trowa scribbled in his note book, short sentences, even though the tape recorder caught every sound in the room.

"Did she introduce you to Dorothy Catalonia?"

"No, no, she didn't. Duke Dermail contacted me himself to make sure Dorothy would get lessons from me. She and Dorothy only met three or four times. They couldn't play quatre-mains well together."

"Why did you start giving piano lessons? You were on your way to become quite a famous concert pianist." Trowa closed the file. Duo looked at him irritated. 

"What is it you have there, in that folder?"

"Answer the question, Mr. Maxwell."

"I won a few recitals, no big deal." He bowed his head.

"You won the annual Achievement Award for Classical Music three times in a row, the most prestigious classical music award of the joined colonies, an award which holds great respect on Earth as well," Trowa summed up, "and you won five different Earth awards in the same field. There were quite some articles written about your talent, still circulating on the Internet, though not many, and you call that 'no big deal'? It was a wonderful career, yet you gave it up for teaching."

"May I ask what this has to do with Hilde? I chose to teach at home!"

"Are you sure you chose?" Wufei eyed Duo meticulously. "You weren't forced?"

"That's ridiculous. No! I wanted to teach at home, it was safer."

"Safer for whom?" Wufei mercilessly kept beating him with words. "Why did you give up such a brilliant career, Mr. Maxwell? To stay at home and teach students, who would never show the same amount of talent as you have, and were only playing for mere fun?"

"Not for mere fun," Duo defended himself, pronouncing the word 'fun' as something vile. "They worked and studied hard on their nocturnes! There's more to win than awards, or…"

"Did you want to obtain a low profile, for whatever you were planning to do? A few murders are quite conspicuous when you're a famous pianist."

"And not when I'm a well-known piano teacher?" Duo's eyes flickered, Trowa couldn't tell if it was out of anger or out of malice. "I came down with you here to help you, not to listen to ridiculous accusations! If you have nothing to work on, don't take it out on me! Do you really think I enjoy having two of my students found dead? Murdered?"

He screamed his last word and had risen from his chair. Duo looked at the two detectives, felt the tension and deflated. 

"I'm sorry, I… I got a bit carried away, I guess." 

Wufei bullied forward. "You still haven't given an adequate answer on our question."

"What did you mean by 'it was safer'?" Trowa chimed in.

Duo sat down and looked at his hands again. He felt cold, ice cold. 

"Heero wanted me to stay home. Travelling around Earth and the colonies to give recitals and concerts were too dangerous for me. He couldn't… he couldn't keep me safe that way, he said. And I… I stayed home."


	9. Chapter 9

Heero looked up with pure murder radiating from his eyes when Trowa came to get him. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Duo standing next to the detective. 

"Duo!"

Duo didn't answer him, just walked right into his arms and they embraced for a moment.

"Otto," he addressed an elderly looking agent with sideburns, "if you would look after Mr. Maxwell, please? Mr. Yuy, this way."

"Go with him, Heero. And... behave, okay?" Duo showed a weak smile. Heero embraced him once again, pulling him closer. 

"You'll get through this, I swear."

"Just go with him, Heero."

They let go and Duo averted his eyes when Heero looked at him. He frowned, only to give attention to the detective when he obstinately cleared his throat.

"This way, Mr. Yuy."

Trowa felt Heero's eyes sweeping through the hallway, to focus and burn on his back the whole way down to the interrogation room. He seemed to mutter something to himself, and Trowa couldn't help himself.

"What are you saying?"

"I said that, if you haven't been treating Duo well, I will make you pay for it," Heero repeated, as calm and composed as anyone could be. 

"We don't like threats and there are many coming from you," Trowa answered, a bit irritated.  He was convinced Heero would live to pursue his threat, but the hairs on the back of his neck kept tickling because of Heero's hostile attitude. "Besides, your partner can take care of himself. He's not made out of sugar, you know."

Heero didn't answer, but Trowa noticed he hadn't favoured himself with his remark. They remained quiet until they reached the interrogation room.

"Mr. Yuy, take a seat. Coffee, or tea, perhaps?" Wufei motioned to the chairs. 

"No." It took a few seconds before Heero added: "No, thank you."

He took the seat close to the door, while Duo had sat close to the window. Wufei observed him closely. "You're a difficult man to find information on, Mr. Yuy."

Heero saw the files and his lips curled into a snarl. "You did a background check on me? Why? What's the reason for this?"

"At ease, Mr. Yuy," Wufei's voice was harsh. "We have two dead girls here who were students of your partner. The girls died both of broken necks. Clean fractures, Mr. Yuy. You two have weak alibis, and heaven knows we're still puzzled about the motive."

"We are good citizens," Heero objected. "We don't go out at night to stalk or murder girls! Why are you insinuating something like that? We pay our taxes, we donate to charity. We have both our happiness and misery. We try to make a living..."

"You don't," Trowa said.

"What?"

"You don't try to make a living," Trowa repeated. He tapped at the files. "You don't have to do anything to do for it. According to your life partner you don't have to work, because you have a war pension. Aren't you a bit young for that? Besides, how high must a war pension be to live off it completely?"

"Your questions are out of line," Heero said. His eyes flicked to the door and back. "I clearly don't see what my war past has to do with the two girls."

"We're trying to find the bigger picture of what we're dealing with here. Please understand that, even though you're not suspect yet, it looks suspicious for you and Mr. Maxwell. You both clearly can't vouch for your alibis. For instance, your life partner claims to have been asleep at the time of Dorothy Catalonia's death, and awake at the time of Hilde Schbeiker's death. When he was awake, you weren't there, Mr. Yuy. You came in fifteen minutes later, with a bag from the night pharmacy."

"Duo was having a nightmare. We were out of his medication, so I got some."

"At 3.00 AM?" Wufei sounded incredulous.

Heero didn't flinch. "His nightmares can happen at any possible hour and the medicine needs to be available whenever it's necessary."

"He couldn't recall any of his nightmares," Trowa said.

"The better for him," Heero cut him off. "This altogether has given him more nightmares than I could've ever imagined for possible. It'll take some time for him to get over it."

"I wish you'd give your partner some more credit," Wufei said. "He's not the fragile character you think he is, Mr. Yuy."

Heero slammed with his fist at the table, startling the two detectives. "How dare you even think of insinuating that he's fragile! Duo is the strongest person I've ever met! He's gone through hell and worse, and this situation isn't making everything for the better! Still he bounces back on his feet, stronger than ever, refusing to go under! He's as alive as no one else can be!" He lowered his voice. "He just needs some protection. He tends to approach the world with… some naivety, and I don't want him to get hurt again and again."

"What do you mean with that 'protection'?" Wufei eyed the tape recorder. The tape was almost at its end.

"I was at the night pharmacy," Heero said, ignoring Wufei's question, "and if you want to, I can show you the receipt. You could've asked me that earlier, that would've saved us both some irritation. I can't think of any other way to prove we were in our bedroom, sleeping. We don't keep cameras there. We don't need to be out in the night."

"Which pharmacy did you go to?"

"The only 24 hours open pharmacy is the Corner Pharmacy," Heero answered. Trowa tried to make a quick calculation in his head. The Corner Pharmacy and the location where Hilde's body was found were too far away from each other. Hilde was estimated to have died at 3.00 AM Even though the exact time of death couldn't be pinpointed, Hilde was estimated to have died at 3.00 AM. If Heero would've been at the Pharmacy at that time, it would take him at least thirty minutes to get to the other location. He refrained from gritting his teeth.

"We must have that receipt," Wufei demanded. Heero immediately rose from his chair. 

"I told you that you could've asked me that earlier. It's at home and I'll bring it to you first thing in the morning. As long as you don't have any solid proof and we're not officially suspect, I believe this conversation is over."

He moved aside and stalked to the door. 

"Your alibis are not waterproof," Wufei said.

"You don't have any proof at all." Before Heero opened the door, he turned around. "This may sound like a threat, again," he eyed Trowa disdainfully, "but I really don't appreciate you doing background checks, on me or on Duo. I will see a lawyer about that."

"Any lawyer will tell you this is normal procedure. Quit obstructing the course of justice, Mr. Yuy."

"There is no justice to obstruct," Heero answered, still looking disdainful. "If there was any justice, detective Chang, detective Barton, you'd be superfluous in this society. If there was any justice, I wouldn't have to protect Duo from this kind of sleaziness."

The door slammed shut at the exact moment the tape recorder stopped with an audible 'click'. 

Trowa saw Wufei's hands tremble. His colleague was suppressing his anger with all his will power.

"That arrogant son of a…! He knows we have nothing to hold him on, nothing to work with, nothing, damn nothing!"

Trowa noticed he himself was also agitated. The spoon in his coffee cup tingled from the force he was shaking it with. "We can't arrest him for having a classified background."

Wufei eyed the files, one of which was clearly marked with a red stamp. "He's a goddamn soldier, at least some commando. He is the exact kind of person able to snap a woman's neck in two without leaving any traces. Damn! Why don't we have anything to work with?"

 "I'm going to call the lab if they've found any traces, on the plaid blanket or on Hilde's clothing. I'll tell them to process Dorothy's belongings once again. There must be something we missed, there must be something we can find!"

Trowa stood up from his chair. "If only we could find some motive…"

He pressed 'rewind' on the tape recorder. 

"I'll have the tape transcribed," Wufei said. He picked up the folders from the table. "And, 

Barton, you better make sure you dig up some information about Yuy. I don't care if you have to turn this town upside down for it."

"Innocent until proven guilty," Trowa softly said. Wufei spun around.

"I don't need to be reminded of that, Barton!" he barked. "I vowed to protect and to serve, and to have justice have its fair course! Yuy mocks all that I stand for, and--"

They both jumped up from a firm knock on the door. Wufei bellowed "Enter!" and the secretary,  Lucrezia, came in with a padded envelope in her hand.

"This came from the lab for you, they said it was urgent."

Trowa took the envelope. "Thank you, Lucrezia."

She left with the thermos and the dirty cups. Wufei took the cassette out of the tape recorder. 

Trowa opened the envelope, and a little tape slid out and fell onto the table. 

"What's this?"

"It's too small for a normal tape recorder. Looks like a tape from an answering machine."

Wufei stalked out of the room. "Let's get back to the office. We have lots of work to do, and I have to think of how to brief lady Une. She's going to have my head if I don't come up with something good. No doubt Duke Dermail has called again to inquire about our progress."

When they walked past one of the reception desks, Trowa stopped and leaned over the massive teak desk. 

"Do you have an answering machine here? Can you play this tape?"

The receptionist nodded, took the tape and put it in an answering machine. She closed the lid and pressed the 'play'-button. 

"1 message at 09:30 pm", a mechanical voice sounded, followed by the obligatory beep. 

"Hey, Hilde baby, where are you? I'm getting worried over here! You're way too late for your class sweetheart, don't make me wait any longer. Call me, okay? I'm worried." The sound of a click was heard.

"Duo," Trowa said. He asked the tape back.

"What's so important about that? So he called her to ask her where she was!"

"It sounded like real anxiety," Trowa mused while they continued their walk to the office. "I don't know about you Wufei, but I think we can dismiss the piano teacher. He's too honest, too emotional."

"I'm not so sure," Wufei answered him. \\_A strength struggling to surface.__ What if it already surfaced and he's making a fool out of us all? _\\ "It may be too obvious to appoint Heero as the perpetrator and dismiss Duo. We both have seen a lot in this job, and we both know to expect the unexpected."

"Still, the unclear motive remains."

"Yes, you're right." Wufei clenched his fists. If there was a motive, some motive at all, he failed to see it. What could possibly be gained by killing two music students who had nothing in common but their piano teacher? And why this voice keep whining in his head, about 'being safe' and 'protection' both Duo and Heero had talked about? He squashed the urge to rub at his temples. He'd have to call Meiran again and tell her that he would be coming home late this evening, if he was coming home at all.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: thank you all so much for your kind reviews, I really appreciate it. 

"We're here." Heero turned off the engine. It was already past lunch hour-- the interrogation had taken the whole morning. The headlights of the car dimmed. Duo sat in the passenger seat, tucked away in his black coat. He still looked pale and he was obviously lost in thought.

"Duo?"

He snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, we're home already?"

"Yes, we are. We're safe."

They both exited the car and Heero examined the parking lot they were in. There was nobody in sight. He took Duo's arm again and they walked to the elevators, footsteps echoing. 

"I feel better," Duo said. "I don't feel like I have to throw up anymore."

"Good. Do you want some lunch? A sandwich? You'd better eat something before you go to bed."

"I'm not that hungry." He hesitated. "I don't want to go to bed."

"I'll make you some broth and then you will go to bed to get some rest." Heero ignored Duo's answer. 

"Yes, mom."

Heero pecked Duo's cheek. He still held his hand when he punched the button for the elevator. 

"What did they ask you?"

"Hmm?"

"The detectives," Duo nudged him, "what did they ask you?"

"Stupid questions." Heero frowned. Duo nudged him again.

"They kept trying to intimidate me that my alibi wasn't waterproof and so on, and so on. They thought they could catch me off-guard. They're both full of hot air."

"They're not intimidating you, Heero. It's their job to ask questions. And well... our alibis aren't that good, now are they?"

Heero slowly turned his head. "What are you implying?"

Duo looked at him with eyes big as saucers. "I'm not implying anything. If I were a detective, I wouldn't really be impressed with an "I was asleep at that time" either."

"We both could account for our presence at the estimated time of death. And as I said to the detectives, we don't keep cameras at our room so they could verify it." He stalked forward and punched the button for the elevator again, hard.

They arrived at their apartment five minutes later. Duo noticed he was feeling pretty exhausted after all, and went to the bedroom. He changed into a comfortable pyjama and pulled back the covers of the bed.

Slipping between the sheets, he saw Heero coming in with a steaming mug in his hand.

"Here. You can't go to bed without having something warm in you first."

Duo took the mug. It was broth and he took a few sips. "I really feel better."

"Great. I'll call the rest of your students to cancel the lessons. You need your rest."

"The rest of my students…" Duo shivered. "Soon, I won't have any students at all. They'll be dead or they'll have run away from me."

He didn't notice the look on Heero's face. He busied himself with drawing circles on the cover and waited for Duo to finish the broth. Heero took the empty mug and put it on the nightstand.

"Why did he ask for Chopin's nocturne?"

"What? Who?"

"Quatre Winner. He asked you to play the nocturne, as long as Hilde hadn't… arrived."

"I don't know." Duo sounded surprised. "I really don't know."

"How did he know it was \\_my_\\ favourite piece?"

"Come on Heero, there are lots of people enjoying Chopin's nocturne…"

"The way you always tease and talk with your students, it's getting too personal," Heero hissed. 

"Heero, quit it. You're… scaring me."

He took Duo by the wrist. "I told you before that you shouldn't bond with your students. Don't you see you are torturing yourself? What if another one of your students gets killed? You're a survivor, but can you survive that?"

"You're hurting me," Duo whispered. His hand cramped. 

"You're safe with me, always. I'll protect you." Heero whispered. "I'll protect you from everything and everyone in this world."

"You're hurting me!"

As if he was stung, Heero let go of Duo's wrist. He immediately rubbed at the offended spot. It wasn't really painful, but Heero hardly knew his own strength. The silence that fell was strained.

"Play for me, please?" Heero stroked Duo's back, running his hands in smooth circles. He leaned forward and kissed him in the neck.

"No, not now," Duo looked at him with big eyes. The incredulous look on his face spoke volumes. Heero embraced him. "I'm so sorry, love. I was wrong, I know. Forgive me."

"What's gotten into you these days? Have you been with Khushrenada and Marquise again?" Duo could've bitten off his tongue. He didn't want to bring Heero's war buddies up again.

"You know where I was yesterday and today. Here with you."

"Heero, we need to talk. You seem…" Duo gulped. \\_Paranoid? Disturbed? Agitated?\_\__

"… somewhat off. Does it have something to do with the detectives… the… situation?"

"I'm here for you." Heero traced the lines of Duo's face with his thumb. "You're so strong, I want to be as strong as you. My Duo."

Duo waited at least a minute before he spoke again. "Why did you get an extra supply of  Clorazil? There was enough in the cabinet, you know."

"I overlooked it when I searched for it. I needed it fast for you and when I couldn't find it, I quickly decided to get it." Heero didn't hesitate for a second. Duo cocked his head.

"Heero… you don't overlook anything. You're the one who recalls our exact expenses on food and beverage from three months ago. What's going on?"

"Play for me tonight?"

Duo suppressed a sigh. The walls were impenetrable if Heero wanted to. This was all he would get out of his lover for today and he gave in.

"Do you want to hear Chopin?"

"No!" Heero fairly screamed. Duo pressed himself into the pillows, taken aback by his vehemence. 

"But… Chopin was your favourite."

"Not any more."

Duo searched Heero's face, but he couldn't find anything that would answer his one million questions, about his lover he thought he knew, but realised he didn't know him at all.

He tried to smile. "I'll play Beethoven for you then."

"Beethoven it is," Heero confirmed. He adjusted the cover to tuck Duo in. He fluffed the pillow and stole a quick look at the alarm clock. "I'll wake you up in a few hours. Get some rest."

Duo closed his eyes. He knew Heero would wait until he fell asleep. He was so exhausted from all the events that it didn't take him long to drift away. Heero checked if he was really asleep, gave him a kiss on his brow and smiled.

"You'll always be music to my ears, sweet Duo. Rest now, I'll be here to guard you."

Duo hardly recalled that Heero woke him up, fed him some dinner and let him rest again. The early morning light already shone through the curtains when he glanced at the alarm clock and bit back a panicked scream. Quatre Winner was always early for his class, and it was way past time to get up! He threw back the covers and jumped out of bed so fast, that the sudden movement made him feel dizzy.

"Take it easy," he heard Heero's voice not from afar, "he's not coming."

Duo didn't have to ask who Heero was talking about. Slowly, he made his way to the bedroom door. Heero stood in the middle of the living room, slipping on his coat.

"Where… where are you going?"

"I'm going to get the newspaper and then walk straight to the police station to give detective Chang the receipt." He almost snorted when pronouncing the detective's rank and name.

"Has everybody called off for today?" Duo felt sick and suddenly very, very alone. He had slept very deep, and even though he hadn't had a nightmare, he had dreamt restlessly. The events of yesterday, the questioning by the two detectives, had stirred up several of his issues he had pushed away in the far corners of his mind-- one of them being his career he had given up, primarily for Heero, to stay at home and teach from there. If none of his students were to come, ever, afraid of the deaths he now inevitably was associated with, he would be alone for the rest of his life- alone with Heero. //_'Are you sure you chose? You weren't forced?'_\\

He shivered. The cotton t-shirt he always slept in made him feel naked, vulnerable. 

"Mr. Winner has called.  He said that his son would be taking a break of the lessons. Indefinitely." Heero delivered the news in a tone of voice that could mean anything. "None of your students said the same, but when I spoke to them, they sounded rather… hesitant. I don't expect any of them to come today." 

Duo lifted his head. He could've sworn he heard a smug undertone in Heero's voice, but when he looked at him he couldn't detect anything in his face that could confirm it.

"Why don't you stay at home and get some rest," Heero suggested. "You've been through a lot lately." 

Duo felt as his limbs were slowly freezing. Stay at home. Stay at home. \\_Stay at home_.\\ He realised he was lost in his thoughts when he only heard the last words of Heero's sentence: 

"… and I'll be home shortly, okay?"

"Okay," he answered numbly and remained standing in the door opening until he heard the front door audibly click. It resonated like a church bell in his head.  

"… I even didn't play for you last night," he slowly murmured. The silence in the apartment weighed as tons of lead on his shoulders.


	11. chapter 11

After so many cups of tea, even the finest blend lost all of its taste. Wufei eyed his cup and slowly shoved it away from him. His left ear still hurt from the telephone call with Meiran-- his wife had chosen this particular night to chew him out about his double shifts. As if that wasn't enough, his commander, lady Une, had chewed him out as well because of lack of results in the Catalonia case. She was very interested in the Schbeiker case and the obvious relation between the two, but was annoyed and frustrated that there still wasn't any breakthrough.

He sighed. There was something tugging at his mind, that nagging, whining voice. "I know I have all the clues in my hands," he said out loud, "but I can't see the connection. What am I missing here?"

It didn't help. He sighed again and put his hand on the pile of paperwork in front of him, glaring at it as if he could it set it on fire. The latest reports, checked and double-checked -- and they didn't help him one bit. No useable traces were found on the plaid blanket on which Hilde's body had laid. The original excitement about the retrieved fibres was quickly diminished when, after thorough examination, it appeared they were from common clothing, mass-produced confection, available in every store and hypermarket. The same applied to the fibres found on her neck--  belonging to gloves that were as common as the daily newspaper. The lab researchers had defined the brand, colour and material of the used gloves, and there wasn't anything more they could do. Wufei almost snarled, knowing that the used gloves were sold by the dozens, available at any retail store, didn't help him. He heard the door of his office open and close.

"Please tell me you have some more information, anything at all, Barton."

"More than you can imagine," Trowa looked tired, but smug. "It took quite a bit of money, otherwise they wouldn't talk."

He let himself fall onto his chair. Wufei chose to ignore the dark walls under the eyes of his colleague. "Money? Who did you talk to?"

Trowa fondled in his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a miniature tape recorder. He put it on the desk and tapped the rewind-button.

"I searched for Heero's war buddies Marquise and Khushrenada, and found them quickly enough. I had to buy them drinks to keep them talking." 

"Good thinking, Barton. And?"

"May I introduce you to Heero Yuy, pilot of the Wing Gundam, better known as 01?"

"You're kidding." Wufei snorted. "He's a Gundam pilot?"

Trowa crossed his arms before his chest, sucked in a deep breath and said: "He's the one that self-destructed in Siberia."

"What the h…but… that's impossible. Heero Yuy was the one who saved us from the pieces of the Libra falling towards Earth. We all saw the pictures when the Gundam pilots made themselves known. He sure looked nothing like the Heero we saw yesterday."

"Yes, that's where the tragedy comes in." Trowa looked a bit sad. "I've got it all on tape, but I'll give you the gist of it. Apparently, there were reserve pilots for every Gundam. Heero Yuy was the codename for a nameless kid, who went through hellish, severe training to become a pilot. He was trained by Dr. J., head of the rebel forces. Heero was so determined and focused that he even earned the nickname of Perfect Soldier."

"And he was perfect till the end," Wufei said. "Everybody recalls the moment when OZ held the colonies hostage to force the rebels to surrender."

\\"_I surrender, but I won't hand over the Gundams."_\\

"The message of Dr. J. was sent out all over the world, and Heero followed orders until the end. He self detonated his Gundam."

"What happened then?" Wufei sat almost at the tip of his chair. He and Trowa, as well as millions of other youngsters, were around the age of fifteen that time. The Gundam pilots were heroes, one for every colony cluster, and many times idolized. In that time, Wufei had caught himself several times daydreaming about being a glorious Gundam pilot, but when the war had ended and five years went by, reconstructing the colonies and rebuilding a broken world, reality and maturity had set in. He seriously doubted if there was anyone left of his generation daydreaming about ever being a Gundam pilot. Trowa shook him out of his reverie, continuing his story.

"After that… stunt, he was hospitalised. Nobody ever expected he'd survive, but he did. Somehow, he met Duo and they hooked up. According to their statements, I think it's safe to guess that Duo didn't know anything about Heero's Gundam past, and I doubt he knows now. Anyway, Heero made several requests to pilot the Wing Gundam again, and even though he was in perfect physical shape to everybody's surprise, he was denied. He never was to pilot a Gundam again."

"That's harsh. After he almost sacrificed his life, he was ditched by his own doctor and rebel forces. That explains the hefty war pension, after peace was established." 

"Yeah," Trowa answered, a bit saddened. "The L1 government pays him a monthly compensation for what he's suffered. But he was ditched anyway. According to Marquise and Khushrenada, when it became clear to Heero that his Gundam piloting days were over, he left with Duo. Marquise and Khushrenada have never seen Duo, so they don't know anything about him. Khushrenada was an OZ general in the war days, but was discharged from his function when he collided with the Romefeller Foundation. Zechs Marquise was the colonel who switched so many sides so many times he was confused as hell himself."

"We all followed the news back then, Barton," Wufei reminded him, but not unfriendly. He doubted if either Khushrenada or Marquise received a war pension. They had been on the wrong side of the war, and it was strange to think that a… former Gundam pilot was friends with them. 

"I think it corresponds with the age- Heero, the first Heero, should've been around fifteen when he detonated his Gundam. I remember, because it was a world-wide shock. A boy of my age  piloted and self detonated a Gundam without second thought, in sacrifice for the colonies."

"That explains his classified background. I tried to steer the conversation into Heero's personality, but Khushrenada and Marquise were too drunk and too lost in their war memories." Trowa sighed. He'd give a kingdom for a nice, hot cup of coffee. "They kept mumbling that Heero was an intense guy, they both respected him of his dedication, but that he sometimes scared them with his focus on… certain things."

"Did they name Duo, even though they've never met him?"

Trowa shrugged. "They only mentioned that they felt sorry for him, because he had to put up with Heero's personality and moods. Khushrenada and Marquise have only each other, mulling over war memories and drinking to forget… or to ease the pain."

The phone rang. Trowa stretched his arms and legs and stifled a yawn. Wufei answered the phone, eyes suddenly growing large.

"Yes, send him in, Lucrezia."

The moment he hung up and before he could inform Trowa, a resolute knock on the door announced Heero and he stepped in the office.

"I'm here to bring you the evidence you questioned me about."

Wufei bit on his tongue to keep him from unleashing a very unpleasant answer. "Thank you, Mr. Yuy."

Heero was already turning around. "If there's anything more, you can call me."

"Sure." Wufei plopped a file on the desk, shoving it almost right into Heero's face. "Please leave the telephone number for Heero Yuy, pilot of the Wing Gundam, also known as pilot 01.  I'm willing to bet my monthly pay that this isn't the half of what there is to discover about you, if we had the resources to discover more."

"I told you I didn't appreciate you doing background checks on me or on Duo," Heero said, voice strong and stern, but he had turned a little bit pale. "What are you trying to prove here?" 

"Like I said before, we are trying to understand the bigger picture here. Your past as a Gundam pilot could fit in somewhere."

"Why do you want to link me to the death of those girls so badly?" Heero narrowed his eyes to mere slits. "If you'd truly followed the course of justice, detective, you shouldn't be biased, nor should you stick to a thread, no matter how small it is."

Trowa hoped Wufei wouldn't mention that he had spoken to Heero's friends from the war. He was under the impression that Heero, composed at first sight, was a boiling slew of emotions underneath. 

"I don't know the girls very well," Heero continued when Wufei didn't give him an answer, "but I do know that Hilde Schbeiker was his best friend and Duo is very, very upset about her death." He didn't waste another breath. "\\_You_\\ made Duo very upset with your accusations and you're trying to do the same with me, now by making obscene insinuations about my past."

"My apologies once again if something appeared as an accusation or insinuation to you, Mr. Yuy," Wufei answered him, voice rigid. "But we haven't accused you of anything. Honestly, we think you're overreacting to our methods of work…" 

"You have no business interfering with my past. You have no business interfering with my relationship. You have no business interfering with Duo." 

Trowa saw Heero's eyes darting through the room and he saw Heero taking a small step back. Not because he was afraid of one of the detectives. \\_The door behind him is the only exit out. He can kill us with his bare hands and then he can escape through the door. _\\

"Mr. Yuy, your protectiveness towards Mr. Maxwell may be endearing to you, but it seems very unhealthy to us."

All the blood drew from Heero's face, leaving him as white as a sheet. "You're in for it now, detective Chang," he snarled and for a moment Trowa was convinced Heero would kill him on the spot. "I'm going to file a complaint against you and taking this to your highest superiors. You have no business interfering with Duo's protection!"

He spun on his heels and stomped out of the office. The little receipt of the Corner Pharmacy slowly fell on the floor, forgotten by anyone.

Wufei gaped. "What is the man talking about? What… what did I say?"

Trowa rubbed at his eyes. "I don't know, Wufei." He stifled another yawn. "If you don't mind, I'd like the rest of the day off."

"Sure," Wufei motioned with his hand. "You've done enough. More than enough."

"I'll leave the tape behind. If you want, you can listen to it."

"Okay."

Trowa put on his coat. "Don't forget to go home once in a while yourself."

"Meiran already threatens to divorce me," Wufei answered him sourly. "This case is eating us alive."

"Yeah." Trowa didn't know what to answer. "I'm out of here. Don't worry about Yuy, though. If he's getting through to lady Une at all, I'll be there to back you up."

"I wasn't worrying about him." Wufei frowned. \\_Protection._\\It was all that Heero Yuy apparently could think about. Something about protection and 'being safe'. \\_It must be the key to it all, I'm sure of it. Protection._\\

He was hardly aware of Trowa leaving the office.


	12. Chapter 12

Duo finished the last tones of the Adagio Pathétique when Heero came in. He slowly rose from the piano stool, his slender fingers leaving the keys of the precious Bösendorfer.

"Everything went okay?"

"Huh?" Heero clearly looked confused and jerked his head towards Duo. It took him less than a second to come to his senses. "Yes, I've given them the receipt. That Chang!"

"What's with detective Chang?"

"He hardly deserves his title," Heero murmured, shrugging of his jacket. "He thinks he can intimidate me, mister know-it-all, mister wise guy. Well, he's going to regret his words."

"Heero, what happened?" Duo had seen Heero like this before-- mostly when he returned from a visit to his wartime friends. _This time, he wasn't near them. In fact, he hasn't visited them for a couple of days now. Strange, it looks like that Heero is getting easier agitated, _"Nothing. Just nothing. Insinuations." Heero looked up and smiled a mere quirk of his lips, instead of the warm loving smile Duo liked to see.

"Nothing concerning you. You're safe."

"You keep telling me that," Duo said. He barely managed to keep his irritation out of his voice. "Will you please tell me what you mean by that?"

"Just like I said it." Heero was close to Duo and took him by the arms, stroking him gently. "I forgot to get the newspaper. I'm going to get it and I'll bring the mail as well."

"I'm coming with you," Duo said, forgetting that he was still clad in his pajamas.

Heero embraced him, a fierce, short embrace and Duo felt the air rushing out of his lungs. He lifted his arms to return the embrace, but Heero had already let go of him.

"You better stay in the apartment. It'll only take me five minutes, and you're not dressed. Go back to bed and rest some more."

"I'm not feeling ill," Duo mumbled, wishing he didn't sound so petulant. Heero picked up his coat and put it on again.

"Of course you're not," he answered, but he didn't sound very convinced. "I'll be back soon."

The door of the apartment closed-- and Duo realized his fists were clenched. He felt locked up. _No, not locked up. Caged. I feel like I'm caged._

He couldn't remember how long he stood in the middle of the living room, thoughts raging through his head. Something was wrong with Heero. Since the killing had started, Heero had become more tight-strung, falling back into his military rituals and customs more by the day. He kept talking about 'being safe'. _He went to the night pharmacy. He has a damn receipt to prove he was there. But why, why, did he get an extra package of Clorazil?_

"Why don't I believe you?" Duo shouted out loud, and scared himself with the anger in his voice, echoing in the living room. It was cold; he suddenly felt it to the bone. He returned to the bedroom and retrieved a quilt, which he swung over his shoulders. The chill didn't go away and he decided to make a hot drink for himself. On his way to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. He was stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment Duo was afraid the two detectives had returned, with the orders to arrest him… _or Heero _… for the murder of two of his students.

It was like a thick fog surrounding him, a blur of time and reality slowing down. It took him so much time to get to the door that the bell rang three more times. He didn't dare to look trough the little spy glass and with an audible gulp, he swung open the door.

"Duo!"

"Quatre? Wha… what are you doing here?"

The blond business student smiled at him, a warm, caring smile. "I'm so sorry, Duo. I heard about Hilde, and I overheard my father calling you. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he talked so loud about quitting the piano lessons, that it was hard to miss. I decided to come see you."

"Come in," Duo said hastily. He refrained from looking around the corridor to see if Heero was about to return yet. Quatre calmly stepped into the hall and shrugged off his coat.

"Duo, are you ill? You're still in pajamas, and you look pale."

"It's getting to me," Duo blurted. "Dorothy and Hilde. They were murdered! Heero…"

"You can't talk to Heero about it, can you?" Quatre's voice was calm, soothing. "It's so difficult for you, Duo. You've been through so much and you haven't got someone to confide in. Let's go to the living room and talk, okay?"

Duo noticed he had dropped the quilt on the floor. He quickly picked it up and clutched it around him, noticing at the last moment Quatre was helping him adjusting it.

"You need to stay warm. Come, we go to the living room."

They just sat down when they heard someone coming through the front door. Duo rose as if he was shot, and Quatre put a hand on him to calm him down. Heero came into the living room, carrying the news paper and a bunch of mail. He was about to say something, when he saw Quatre.

"Mister Winner, what a surprise."

"Good morning to you too," Quatre answered, vaguely amused.

Heero stood in the living room, tearing the newspaper to shreds.

"What took you so long?" Duo blurted. He held the quilt closed around him, almost clutching it as a protective shell.

"I was securing the area," Heero answered. If he was bothered by Quatre's startled look and Duo's surprised wide eyes, he didn't show any of it. "Everything is safe. I ran into a neighbor who wanted to know something and I dealt with him."

"You dealt with him?" Duo started to panic. _No! Heero hasn't gone mad! He doesn't kill!_

Heero put the newspaper on the coffee table. "I told him what he wanted to know and then I left."

Silence. Earth shattering, cold, screaming silence.

"Some tea then?"

"That would be wonderful." Quatre sat tensed on the couch, next to Duo, hands on his knees. His voice didn't falter and he looked Heero straight in the eye. "Thank you."

When Heero had left, Quatre shook his head and looked at Duo. "That man is one and all suppressed rage. I sometimes wonder… forgive my boldness, Duo, but sometimes I wonder how you can live with him."

"I love Heero," Duo said fiercely.

"Why do you always defend him? There's something wrong with him. He's scaring people, your people, your students. He's killing them. He's killing _you, _Duo."

"No!" Duo turned around and faced Quatre. "That was uncalled for! How dare you insinuate this!"

The business student raised his hands. "My apologies, Duo. I didn't want to offend you. It's just that I… well, I've noticed how Heero is isolating you. You're withering away. Look at yourself! When I visited you for my first lesson, you were laughing and healthy, and now you're looking pale, you're reclusive, and you're ill!"

Duo dropped his head on his chest. "It's driving us apart. The murder of my students, it's all so awful."

"It's a shame you can't really talk about it with Heero." Quatre had claimed his spot next to Duo again. He was so close he only had to whisper. "He doesn't understand you. He only sees you as a mission, with parameters he has set for himself, just like the soldier he is."

Duo didn't answer. His head spun with the dizzying speed of his thoughts going around, a mumbo-jumbo of fears, anxiety and despair. He suddenly felt Quatre's hand on his.

"You were born extremely gifted. You talked to me with so much passion for music, you showed me the beauty of music, especially from your piano. Remember the talks we had about music and emotion? You showed me so much, Duo. These hands-" a slight caress, just a slight caress, "were made for playing music. You were made to show the beauty of music. I understand you, Duo."

The quilt slipped off of Duo's shoulder and just when he rearranged it, Heero returned with the tea, and hot coffee for Duo and himself.

"Thank you," Quatre said, sitting up straight, leaning forward to take the cup. "I believe this is Earl Grey, isn't it?"

"Correct." Heero turned around and seated himself in front of him, never leaving the business student one second out of sight. "Is there any specific reason for your visit, mister Winner? Your father made quite clear that you wouldn't be taking any class anytime soon."

"I'm not here for class. I wanted to see how Duo was doing. This situation is putting so much stress on him. The terrible things that have happened and I know there's no solution to the case. My father knows Duke Dermail pretty well."

"Ah yes. You don't need to remind me that mister Winner senior is very influential. Mining business, isn't it?"

"Three," Quatre answered. "We possess three mining business and resources satellites. Winner Incorporated is also active in construction businesses, production lines for heavy duty machinery and textile industries."

"You've forgot about your branch in the commercial space flights industry," Heero said.

"I didn't doubt for a moment you would do a background check on a new student." Quatre took a sip. Duo had been sipping at his coffee quietly, but at Quatre's last remark he slammed his mug down on the table.

"I've told you numerous times to stop that! How could you, Heero? You promised me to stop doing those freakin' background checks!"

Duo trembled with anger. He didn't want to give in into his rising fear. A fear that had crept up onto him more than once, a fear that Heero somehow was connected to the murder of his students. _Heero couldn't have killed the girls. Why? Why should he?_

Quatre interrupted the awkward silence by changing the subject.

"Duo, Hilde's funeral will be the day after tomorrow. I want to go with you."

"Fine," Duo answered, harsher than he had intended. "That's fine."

"I don't want to keep you from your, ehm, business," Quatre said and put his empty teacup on the table. "I'll pick you up before the service, Duo." He rose from the couch. "Good day, mister Yuy."

Heero hardly acknowledged him. "Good day to you too, mister Winner."

"I'll let myself out," Quatre said and the last word sounded a bit off; but neither Heero nor Duo noticed.

The silence returned. There had never been so much silence in the apartment as the last few days. Music had always filled the rooms, the emptiness, and the void between them. Music had always drifted between them, interwoven with their lives, binding them together with the force of every emotion- joy, hope, grief, sadness. Music had always set the tone in their daily life; joyful music for the good days, soulful music for the bad days. There hadn't a day gone by without Duo touching the Bösendorfer, and the closed lid of the grand piano spoke more volume than a thousand words.

"Why do you want to go to Hilde's funeral? It'll rip open old wounds, Duo." Heero spoke slowly, as if he weighed every word before speaking.

"She was my best friend and very dear to me." Duo spoke mechanically, as if he had lost all interest for any word. Again silence. This time, Duo interrupted it.

"I know what it feels like to have lost everything, Heero. Her adoptive parents also have lost everything. How couldn't I go?"

"Don't you want me to go with you?" It wasn't a simple question. In the heavy atmosphere in the silenced apartment Duo felt the weight behind the words, behind the question. It was like a scale, desperately trying to get into balance. He took a deep breath.

"No, I can do this on my own. I'm…" he hesitated. In that short moment he saw the intense, hopeful look in Heero's eyes. "I'm not afraid of the memories any more. I've been living too long with them anyway."

"There was a burning church with dead people," Heero slowly said. "That day, ten years ago, when you lost everything. You still wake up once every night because you can't shake the image, can't close the chapter of your life. A funeral will bring back more of those memories."

"I need some fresh air," Duo brusquely said, rose and walked to the huge windows. He opened both panels and didn't care for the cold. The curtains moved with the wind rushing in and Duo slipped outside, onto the balcony with the marvelous view.

"I'm sorry," he heard Heero say behind him. "That was cruel of me."

"It wasn't." Duo hoisted the quilt once again around his shoulders. "It's the truth." It felt so familiar, Heero behind him, adjusting the quilt, caring for him, taking care of him.

"You're slipping away from me."

The accusation Duo had been waiting for. The train of thoughts in his mind wouldn't stop. Was it what Quatre had said? Or what Heero had done? _What had he done?_

"I can't be in here forever. It's suffocating. This misery is tearing us apart."

"Duo, please, look at me."

He turned around. Heero took the opportunity to wrap himself around Duo, holding him close.

"Nothing tears us apart."

Duo's voice was smothered against Heero's chest.

"It's suffocating. I can't breathe in here!"

"Being inside? You're safe inside, safe with me." Heero let go of Duo and he took a step backwards. With an aggravated move of his hands, Duo swiped away some strands of chestnut hair.

"Heero, sometimes I just don't want to disappear inside of you."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to know, Heero. I need to know. Why do you want to protect me? Why are you reverting back to the "you" from your old war days? Why are you undoing all the hard work I've done for the both of us?"

Heero narrowed his eyes. "I haven't been with my war friends for some time now. Especially for you, I haven't visited them because I know it upsets you. Can't you see the situation? Two of your students have been murdered. I don't want you in any danger. I want you safe! Is that it?"

Duo had seen the hopeful look in Heero's eyes. Now he only saw the defensive wall, the wall he had fought so hard for to be taken down. He opened his mouth and it was like a scream being torn out of his lungs.

"No, that's not it! It's _you_, Heero. _You are killing me!_"


	13. Chapter 13

Wufei moved his fingers in rubbing circles at his temples. The headache hadn't gone away. He had put so much work in the Catalonia/Schbeiker case, and lately he had the feeling he was walking into walls, what wasn't making things any easier.

Sighing, he picked up his reading glasses. He hated, no, loathed cases he couldn't solve. Especially cases like this. Dorothy Catalonia. Hilde Schbeiker. One thing they had in common were the piano lessons with Duo Maxwell as their teacher. The second thing they had in common was that both their necks were snapped- according to the coroner, in one single move. The girls hadn't felt any pain and they certainly weren't attacked or abused before they died. Wufei tapped with a pencil on the stack of files. Lady Une insisted on daily reports, but there was nothing to report. He couldn't arrest someone just because Wufei had a hunch he did it. Something was wrong with this case, incredibly wrong. Chang Wufei was one of the top detectives of this police station and he wasn't about to give up.

"I'm overlooking something," he said aloud and started tapping with the pencil on his forehead.

"You say that at least once every day," Trowa Barton snorted. Wufei hadn't heard his colleague coming in and hid his irritation extremely well. It helped that Trowa had brought Chinese food for lunch- and two interesting looking, thick paper files.

"And?"

"Success. I got every collaboration from Miss Po."

"Thank the spirits, finally some good news. Sit down, Barton, and don't keep me waiting."

Trowa quickly arranged the white cartons and carefully put the files away, so that none of the food could be accidentally spilled on it.

"How did you get the woman to talk?"

"It took some digging, but she finally admitted that she has seen both Yuy and Maxwell in therapy, albeit not together." Trowa took the set of chopsticks and opened one of the cartons. "After I met and questioned Khushrenada and Merquise, I dug deeper into their past, especially Merquise's. He still has ties with former soldiers, from the Alliance, White Fang and OZ. The man has switched so many sides he still has friends in almost every faction. Finally I tracked down Po, but only because someone mentioned a former Alliance medic who had vague contacts with pilot 01, but contact nonetheless. Anyhow, when I called Po I just mentioned her Alliance past and she was quickly to operate. It wasn't my intention to intimidate her, but she isn't very proud of her past."

"Get on with Maxwell and Yuy." Wufei took extreme pleasure in the fact that he, after all those years of Chinese take-out for lunch, still handled the chopsticks better than Trowa.

"Maxwell evidently suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, after what happened to him at the church. He couldn't deal with all the guilt he felt and he couldn't handle that he was the sole survivor. She also mentions his anger about his talent for music. According to her notes, he felt quite worthless because he, in his words, 'could only play some tunes at the piano'. He'd rather wanted to help with the rebuilding of society, wishing to be of some more use. At her advice, he left L2 to get out of the situation, and, judging from the time pad in the file, he did so quite abruptly. She prescribed him medication to alleviate reoccurring nightmares, but not lately."

"That explains the Clorazil. Apparently, he doesn't need to see the doctor again to renew his prescription, if Yuy was able to get it at 03:00 at night. Continue."

Trowa closed the carton. "Yuy, on the other hand, is a classical case of a train wreck. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, compulsive behavior, paranoia, borderline, bipolar, you name it. We already knew he was dumped after he self-detonated the Gundam, and was rewarded with a war pension. Nobody didn't even undertook one effort to look after him."

"Cruel cowards," Wufei muttered. "He was only a kid then."

"Interesting, though," Trowa chimed in. The chopsticks scraped at the bottom of the carton. "The recording of his file immediately stops after his self-detonation, but Sally Po helped him nursing back to health. She was field medic at the time. I could clearly distinguish about what she told me that Heero left around the same time Duo did."

"Did they meet in the aftermath of the war? How come that Maxwell was in Siberia?"

Trowa shrugged. "There was a war going on, not everything was recorded, and records were destroyed or lost in the turbulent times. I'm not sure about the connection between Sally Po and Duo Maxwell. She didn't want to talk much about her Alliance past and she did both a field medic job as well as a psychiatric job, before quitting and returning to her homeland."

When Wufei didn't comment, Trowa continued. "They met somehow when Heero was recovering from his self detonation stunt and Duo was getting on his feet after the traumatic events he went through. They must've found something in each other- Heero, the strong soldier, could focus all his protection on Duo as he was trained to do, setting his parameters around him. Duo, the frail piano teacher, could finally bask in the attention and the shelter of a loving partner, after being on his own for so long and taking away his feelings of guilt and insecurity after the events at the church."

"I see that Po woman mentioning Maxwell's success in slowly but steadily cutting down on his medication," Wufei said, skimming through the first file. He had shoved the empty cartons in the wastebasket and his desk was spotless. "She mentions his strong character, because he managed to leave a great part of his past behind. Amazing. Look here, the dose for his tranquilizers went down exponentially. We know what became of him when he left L2- a renowned piano teacher with a waiting list for his students."

"Not any more." Trowa said wryly. He finished the last of his lunch.

"So, what do we have here?" Wufei leaned backwards. Something nagged at him, again. "We have the sole survivor of a tragic church accident who has become a piano teacher, and a trained soldier, capable of snapping a woman's neck in one swift motion, without leaving any traces. Two students are murdered, without a trace of assault, robbery or abuse. We don't have a motive and we don't have a suspect."

"That Heero fellow," Trowa answered, cleaning up his desk. "We don't have anything to pin him down, but we both agree he did it, right?"

"We just can't prove it. We only have a stupid receipt from the Corner Pharmacy to prove his alibi."

Trowa shrugged again. "He could've picked up a receipt another customer left behind."

He pulled one of the files towards him and opened it, with the full intention to read the documents within the file.

"It's something you said," Wufei said, suddenly.

"What?"

"Protection," Wufei adjusted his chair. "There has been something bothering me about that 'protection' of Yuy. Back in the apartment, when we were there for the first time, did you notice how he was holding Maxwell? And when they were here for interrogation? Constant holding him close, hands clasped together, not letting him one second out of sight?"

"Wufei, don't tell me you're disturbed by them?"

"No Barton, of course not," Wufei shook his head. "That protectiveness is radiating some kind of obsession. You heard Yuy's answers when he was here, you know about the scene the second time we were in their apartment."

Trowa sighed. "Don't tell me your newest theory is that Heero kills every student of his life partner because he somehow wants to protect him. Why would he do that for?"

Both detectives remained silent. They looked at each other.

"Good God, Wufei, you really think so!"

"We know Heero is a former Gundam pilot. We know what extensive training he underwent. We know he has had some mental problems. My guess is that Yuy still is stuck in his days as a soldier and has replaced his objectives of the war with his objective to protect Maxwell from whatever -or whoever- he esteems dangerous."

"For what reason he could've esteemed Dorothy Catalonia or Hilde Schbeiker dangerous?"

Wufei rubbed frantically at his temples. The whining voice in his head wouldn't leave him alone. "Attention?" He suggested. "Attention that was taken away from him? The girls fell in love with Duo?"

Trowa jerked his head. "The girls, certainly Hilde as Duo's best friend, would've certainly known they wouldn't stand a chance!"

"I'm just guessing here," Wufei gave back, slightly annoyed. "I believe that "protection" thing of Yuy is the key to the case. If we can prove he killed those two students in order to protect 'his' Duo, we've got him."

"How do you prove something like that? We haven't anything that remotely could point Heero as possible perpetrator!"

"I don't know, I simply don't know." Wufei suddenly stood up from his chair. "Anything with that other student? The blond guy?"

"I saw his name on the list. He's Quatre Raberba Winner, the Winner heir," Trowa confirmed.

"May the good spirits be with us," Wufei exclaimed. "If anything happens to him, we have both Dermail and Winner senior breathing in our necks. All hell will break loose! That's all we need!"

It took a full minute before Trowa spoke again. "He's male."

"Of course he is, mister Obvious," Wufei snarled and regretted his words. He normally wasn't hot tempered, but this case was getting at his nerves. Only the calm look on Trowa's face told him that he was overseeing an important detail and he knew it within the second.

"If your theory is correct," Trowa drawled, "then we have to work out something fast and make sure Quatre Winner doesn't do something that could be dangerous… in Heero's eyes."

"Falling in love with his life partner." Wufei continued, brainstorming. The glasses fell off his nose, totally forgotten. "Anyone coming close to some personal level with Duo Maxwell is dangerous to Heero Yuy, and will die."


	14. Chapter 14

"I still think you're making a mistake by attending Hilde's funeral." Heero stood behind Duo, who finished dressing himself in black attire.

"What more are you going to keep me away from?" Duo didn't turn around. He knew his words were harsh, they sounded cruel to his own ears. "Are you going to keep me away from paying my last respects to the best friend I've ever known?"

"Why are you doing this to me? Look at me, Duo, please, look at me."

"I… I can't." Duo adjusted the collar of his shirt. He couldn't bear looking at Heero and to see the hurt, the pain, and the fear in his eyes. _What am I doing? I can't take this suffocation any longer. I want to break free, I want to breathe- but is this the right way to break free? _

"I'm not going to keep you away from anything. I just know that going to a funeral will provoke more nightmares, Duo, and I only want you safe. I want to protect you from every bad thing in this world. I-"

"Stop talking like you're a goddamn soldier!" Duo yelled. "You've left that behind, years and years ago! You're not a soldier anymore, and you don't… fucking… _need _to protect me!"

Finally he turned around and looked at his lover whose face showed a stone cold expression.

"What do you mean, Duo?" Heero's voice sounded distant, toneless. "You need my protection. I'm here to protect you, shield you from whatever happens. Nothing comes close to you when I'm here."

"I can take care of myself!" Duo snarled. "You're suffocating me, Heero. You're suffocating me!"

Heero looked at him, eyes void of any understanding.

"Duo, the world is mean. People are mean. I'm only doing my best to protect you. With me around, nothing will happen to you."

With an angered scream, Duo grabbed the alarm clock from the nightstand and flung it at Heero, who dodged it by merely cocking his head.

"I'm not a fucking objective! I don't need your protection! I need _you, _Heero, only you!" Duo tried to gain control over himself, but the recent string of events had taken a toll on him.

"What have you done to yourself, Heero? Why have you reverted to your soldier like behavior? I thought you were leaving your past behind you. I worked so hard to get those walls down, you worked so hard to get over everything that happened to you. We're not in the war anymore, Heero. You can let go of your objectives. I don't need a soldier. I don't want a soldier. I only want you. You need help, Heero, please."

"It's dangerous outside," Heero answered, voice still monotonous. "I want to protect you from everything bad. You're strong, Duo, but you can't take everything on your own."

Duo bit on his lip. He was loosing this fight. He couldn't get through to Heero and it was tiring him. The walls he had brought down were back in their place and he felt suddenly too tired to do something about it.

"Did Kushrenada and Merquise fill your head with this? Why else have you become so over protective as of late?"

"They have nothing to do with this. As I've said before, I haven't visited them in quite a while."

"True." Duo wanted to touch Heero, and outstretched his hand. Heero didn't take it.

"You said that I was slipping away from you… but who is really slipping away here?" Duo composed himself enough not to let the lump in his throat affect his voice. "I don't know you anymore, Heero. Did you kill the girls? Did you kill them because they were coming _close?_ Did you kill them because they were somehow not compliant with your objectives?"

"I didn't kill them," Heero answered.

"I want to believe you," Duo said, his hand still outstretched, untouched. "God, how I want to believe you."

The doorbell rang.

"That would be Quatre," Heero said. "Please, let me accompany you, Duo."

"I'll be back at seven o'clock." Duo picked up a black coat and put it on. "I'll play for you tonight."

"You're going to play for me?"

"You'd better think about what piece you'd want to hear." Duo picked up his gloves and smiled, albeit a bit wan. Some of his old enthusiasm had resonated in Heero's voice and his eyes were more alive.

"We'll talk tonight. We're not going to enlarge the distance between us. We're not going down because of this."

The doorbell rang for the second time. In passing, Duo pecked Heero on the cheek and left the room. Heero heard Duo greeting Quatre and the calm, composed voice of the business student drifted into the bed room. Heero clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth.

"I always follow my emotions, Duo. There's no other way I can lead my life." He looked up to his reflection in the mirror. "There is no danger here." His mirror image looked pale and cold, but his instincts were roaring with fire and passion. "_I'm_ not the danger here."

"We'll have to hurry to be in time for the memorial service." Trowa Barton checked his watch. "It's usually pretty busy around here."

"Does everybody and his mother have to come through this lane?" Wufei looked at the left and at the right. Traffic sure was hectic at this roundabout and they only had twenty minutes left to reach the church. Wufei and Trowa had been present at the funeral of Dorothy Catalonia, and they wouldn't miss Hilde Schbeiker's funeral, if only for the slim chance her murderer would be present too. It was a well-known fact that murderers often visited the funeral of their victims- but this case had been, as with so many other facts, every exception of the rule. Neither Duo Maxwell nor Heero Yuy had attended the Catalonia funeral. Wufei had asked about it the first time both men were at the police station for their interrogation, but the answer had been, of course, 'Duo had been too unstable at the time and Heero had stayed home for him'. _Protection! _Wufei snorted. _Protection, my foot! Yuy is enforcing his old time war habits on Maxwell, who sooner or later is going to burst and let Yuy know he has enough of it. Maxwell's far too strong to let Yuy dominate him for much longer and when he snaps, it won't be pretty. If Yuy's already killing because of his objectives, there's no telling what could happen when Maxwell's tells him to stop his so-called 'protection'. _He floored the gas pedal and the car sprinted forward.

"Cough it up, Wufei, you're way too tense."

"You're far too observant sometimes; you know that, don't you Barton?"

"Look, everybody is tensed and irritated because of this case. We're fairly sure about the killer, but we don't have anything to arrest him for. There's no evidence, no witness. Two young girls are murdered, and one of them is the granddaughter of one of the most influential persons in this town. It's aggravating, but we mustn't take it out on each other."

"I just can't believe we don't have any proof. I choose to do this work because I want to serve justice, not to see someone walk freely around while two girls are murdered… just because of some skewered feeling!"

"If Heero turns out to be our killer, then his lawyers will have a field day." Trowa leaned backwards in the seat. "Judging from doctor Po's reports alone, he's the walking dream of any psychiatrist. How can justice be served if the perpetrator acts on a distorted vision of his own emotions? In Heero's mind, everything he does is justifiable because of his mission: protecting Duo."

"Justice will find a way to be served," Wufei answered and pulled the car to a halt. They had arrived at the church. The service was about to begin and black clad relatives and friends of the Schbeikers were walking up the stairs whispering or mumbling softly. Trowa spotted Duo almost immediately in the crowd.

"I see our piano teacher."

"And Heero? Do you see him?" Wufei quickly put on a black jacket he had borrowed from Trowa. In his culture white was the color of mourning, not black.

"Someone else is with him." Trowa hesitated. "I believe it's Winner junior."

"What? What's he doing here?"

"I don't know. We'll talk to him after the service."

Both detectives made their way into the church and chose a seat where they had a good view of everyone present. Wufei left the observant job to Trowa- his colleague would gather more information from merely someone's posture than Wufei could from a severe interrogation. He only watched Duo and noticed Quatre sitting next to him, pretty close. In fact, the business student's right leg was touching Duo's left one. The piano teacher didn't seem to notice, absorbed as he was in his own thoughts. Silence fell.

Relatives and acquaintances were slowly leaving the church. Trowa kept an eye out for Wufei, who had managed to seek out Duo in the crowd. Just as Trowa was beginning to wonder, Wufei came out of the church, followed by Duo and Quatre.

"I just can't imagine it, detective Chang," he heard Duo say. "I just can't believe it."

"I think it's a bit disrespectful to question a man in this situation," Quatre said. "We're at a funeral. Can't this wait?"

"I ask you to understand the difficulty of this case, Mister Winner," Wufei said. "We need every piece of information we can get. If, as I asked, Mister Maxwell could recall seeing someone during the service that doesn't belong there, maybe we can have a lead to the killer."

"I only saw family and acquaintances. I just can't believe that the killer would attend a funeral of his own victim." Duo had mangled the service program to pieces.

"You'd be surprised," Wufei blurted.

"Mister Winner, it's strange to see you without your bodyguards," Trowa said, interrupting the discussion. "Haven't you been threatened before with kidnapping?"

Quatre shrugged. "That was a long time ago. I guess I'm not worth the trouble of kidnapping any more."

"Still, if you were to be kidnapped, they could ask quite some ransom for you."

Quatre muffled his chuckling with his hand. "Mister… Barton, wasn't it? Mister Barton, let me tell you that my father recognized that potential danger and took, as usual, severe precautions. He was very adamant about it and made sure I was trained in several fighting and self defence techniques to protect myself. He even sent me to the desert to train intensively with an ex-commando and made sure I followed several survival courses, so I would be prepared for anything."

"Rigid," Wufei said, impressed.

"Well, yes, my father is very thorough," Quatre said. He looked at Duo, who had been listening quietly. "As usual, I had nothing to say about it. Never mind," he hastily continued, "we have to go, Duo, come on."

"Yes, sure." Duo hesitated before he turned around. "Anything else, detectives?"

"After the funeral," Wufei said. "We'll wait here."

They watched Duo and Quatre walking towards the cemetery.

"What do you think, Barton?"

"Strange that Heero isn't around. Maybe he trusts Quatre to take care of Duo."

Wufei crossed his arms. "I think we're making a big mistake by judging Maxwell as the weakest person here. I don't think Yuy trusts the Winner kid - I think Maxwell somehow convinced Yuy to let him go with Winner to the funeral."

"Anyone who can tear himself apart from Heero's hold earns my respect," Trowa said and stared in the distance. Wufei scolded himself for not bringing his sunglasses. The white stoned church reflected the sun even more and they patiently waited until the funeral was over.

True to their word, Duo and Quatre came walking back to the detectives. Quatre heaved a sigh, after checking his watch.

"Mister Barton, Mister Chang, if you don't have any questions, I would like to have your permission to leave. I have an important appointment with my father and I don't want to keep him waiting."

"You're free to go, Mister Winner. We have no questions for you." Wufei noticed the slight nervous look the business student gave Duo.

"Are you alright? I would like to offer you a ride back, but my father won't wait…"

"We can take Mister Maxwell back to his house," Trowa was quick to offer. Duo looked at him quizzically, but nodded.

"It's okay, Quatre. Better not keep your father waiting."

"I'll come visit you as soon as I'm finished." Quatre put on his gloves and pulled the car keys out of his pocket. "Be careful at home, okay?"

"Why is that?" Wufei asked, before Quatre could turn around and walk away. He hesitated.

"Well, because of Heero, of course. I've always told Duo that Heero is a… bit off," he finished his sentence. "He has something ferocious about him. He scares me, sometimes. I do hope you're not considering visiting him."

"We know how to deal with Mister Yuy," Trowa answered, face frowned. Quatre showed a confident smile.

"I know you do. But with all the training he's had, he sure is a difficult adversary. Good day, Mister Chang, Mister Barton."

He walked away to the parking lot and both detectives stared after him, watching him until he got into his car.

"Newest Mercedes," Trowa noticed. "Winner Enterprises isn't doing a bad job."

"If you could give me a ride back home, as you promised, detectives," Duo interrupted him, "I would appreciate it. However, you also want to talk to Heero, I presume?"

"Yes, we want to talk to him. This way Mister Maxwell."

The ride back to the apartment building was quiet. Duo still held the service program in his hand, even though he had torn it into unrecognizable shreds.

"What did you think of the service?"

"It was beautiful. Bach was Hilde's favorite. She would've enjoyed it."

"Mister Maxwell… what do you think happened?"

"You're the detectives. You're supposed to find the killer, not me."

"Heero constantly tries to discourage you from socializing with your students. Don't you think his protectiveness has taken such absurd forms that it's quite possible he would even kill for it?"

"He is a good man," Duo answered. He looked out the window. "You may think of him whatever you want, based on his file or on his disposition - but Heero doesn't kill. And certainly not for me."

"How come you're so sure?" Wufei turned around in his chair.

"I asked him if he killed the girls and he answered me no. I believe him." Duo didn't look at Wufei, and Trowa, even though he had to focus on the busy traffic, didn't miss the slight hesitation in Duo's last words.

They pulled up at the big apartment building and Trowa found a convenient parking spot. He switched off the engine, released his buckle and got out of the car. Wufei did the same and slammed the door close.

"Aren't you going to get out, Mister Maxwell?"

"Yes, yes, certainly." Duo got out of the car, but his movements were rigid and strained. They walked towards the elevator and Duo pushed the button.

"Is something wrong?" Trowa asked.

"Nothing."

"Are you afraid of Yuy? Afraid of your own lover, Mister Maxwell?"

"I believe him. I believe him!" Duo smacked his hand again at the control panel. "Stop doing this to me! Stop doing this to us!"

The lift arrived. Duo almost jumped into the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. Trowa and Wufei followed suit and the doors closed.

"We have studied his past. We know Heero is an excellent soldier, a well trained, high skilled soldier who piloted a Gundam. We know how he got treated after his self-destruction. We think something went wrong in his war days."

"But he found you," Wufei continued. "A young, uncertain, insecure colony kid who desperately was looking for love and attention. And you found him - a young, uncertain, hurt soldier kid who was desperately looking for new objectives and missions."

"You're both out of your mind! Heero didn't self-destruct! A Gundam? What are you talking about?!" Duo turned around to face both men. "What are you doing?"

"Yuy didn't tell you the whole truth, then," Wufei said wryly. "But more important is that we think he's enforcing his old time war habits on you. And in his screwed up interpretation to protect his mission, you, he has even started killing for it."

"Lies!" Duo spat out and the elevator doors went open. Before he could turn around and step out, he was pulled at his jacket and he was dragged out of the elevator. Duo let out a surprised yelp.

"Hey, stop it!" Trowa reached for his gun. Wufei was quicker and held Heero at gunpoint.

"What are you doing here, Yuy?"


End file.
